The Noble Mercenary
by JFalcon
Summary: A story of lust, assassination, warfare, betrayal, and it's only the beginning! Now Dinin Do'Urden must attempt to save the Spider Queen's prized Menzoberranzan from followers of the Lady of Loss! [Finished]
1. The Pits

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on Forgotten Realms which I do not own, all persons, places or things are fictional, any similarity to real life events, or actual persons living or dead is coincidental and unintentional. Dinin, Jarlaxle, Drizzt and Vierna are not my property, they are not in any way my own creations.

**Author's Note:**This story uses a mix of the characters from R.A. Salvatore's works and from my own, the main focus for this is on Dinin Do'Urden. Jarlaxle is involved but again, Dinin is our protagonist. There are original characters as well, all of which are my own creations.

**The Noble Mercenary**

**Chapter I  
Bregan D'aerthe**

The crowd cheered wildly as the bugbear champion tore through the pair of orcs with a single sweep of his Greatsword. He roared in triumph only to be taken from behind by a third pig faced challenger, his brief reign as champion now at it's end.

The bugbear's brothers charged into the remaining orcs, some of whom tried to flee.

They were slaughtered to the very last, and the spectators appreciated this greatly. The cheer was deafening. Some of the spectators threw hunks of meat to the victors, a reward that they had brought for the victorious slaves.

The bugbears eagerly accepted it and tried to shove as much of it as they could down their throats before the slave masters hurried them away.

Even armed and reasonably dangerous the slaves made nothing resembling an attempt at rebellion against their masters. They had long ago learned that if they resisted the drow would not simply kill them, but would instead torture them until death became a fantasy.

Pit fighting. Not at all uncommon in most drow cities, but something that most nobility would not be seen wasting their time on. Noble drow could, after all, have their own private fights between their own personal servants.

Offspring even, if the mood took them.

"Beautiful, no?" Jarlaxle chuckled, Dinin Do'Urden, or rather Dinin of no house worth mentioning, could not help but scoff.

"This throng of inbred commoners screaming over a bunch of slaves, you call beautiful?" The former elderboy of house Do'Urden asked.

Jarlaxle winked his right eye--he wore the patch over his left today--and said, "You see a throng of inbred commoners, I see a mass of paying customers, the gold they bring in is easily enough to replace the slaves lost and then some, and of course Bregan D'aerthe receives a share of the profits. Why did you think Elkantar held these pit fights?"

"Personal amusement." Dinin said distastefully as a pair of goblins scurried about the pit, trying to lift the carcass of the former champion and failing miserably. The crowd roared with laughter.

Jarlaxle smiled, "Money." He said, and Dinin of course had already known. "He runs these little events for the money. Occasionally, I suppose, for personal amusement." The mercenary chuckled. "Elkantar always was fond of watching battles, even if he never was any good at participating in them."

"Speaking of the baatezu . . ." Dinin trailed off, and pointed to a large drow approaching them and looking rather jolly.

Dark elves were very rarely obese; Elkantar was one of the more obvious exceptions. He was almost as tall as Dinin, and just about as wide as he was tall. His long braided hair was wrapped around his neck like so many white pearl necklaces, and Dinin could not help but think about how easy that might make it to strangle Elkantar if one could but sneak up behind him.

Flanking the fat noble were two rather attractive female guards which Dinin realized said a bit about Elkantar's station. Even being the brother of a matron mother, and house wizard did not usually afford one the difference of a pair of female body guards.

Dinin's elder brother Nalfein—thankfully—had not had such protection, and Do'Urden had been much higher in rank than Elkantar's house.

"Welcome! Welcome my _Khal'abbil_," Elkantar said to Jarlaxle, Dinin half expected the head of Bregan D'aerthe to order him to run the fat fool through for being so presumptuous.

But Jarlaxle just smiled as if he had not heard Elkantar refer to him in such a familiar manner. Certainly Dinin would never call Jarlaxle his "trusted friend", but for Elkantar to do so and not be punished suggested it was true.

Or that Elkantar was simply valuable enough not to be slaughtered quite yet.

"I see you've come as agreed." Elkantar grinned, he shot Dinin a glance that made him feel strangely uneasy.

Jarlaxle shrugged. "Well this promises to be . . . amusing." He said. "Who do I speak to about placing a bet?"

"Oh-ho!" Elkantar chuckled, "No need to talk to my servants! You, my esteemed guest, may speak directly to me of course!"

Jarlaxle nodded. "Very well." He reached into his _piwafwi_ and materialized a bag of rare gems which he offered to Elkantar, only to pull it back before the fat drow could get his hands on it. "Well worth one hundred thousand gold." The mercenary said.

"Is that not too high a price to waste on such repugnant entertainment?" Dinin tried not to wrinkle his nose at the nonsense.

Jarlaxle said with a strange amusement in his eye, "It is wasted only if you lose."

It took a moment for Dinin to absorb the meaning behind that.

Elkantar practically levitated with glee, "One hundred thousand on him? I'll give you two to one odds he does not make it."

"Accepted." Jarlaxle nodded. One of the guards reached out to grab Dinin by the arm, he nearly removed hers, save for a warning glance from Jarlaxle.

And so into the pit went Dinin of no house worth mentioning.

* * *

Dinin cockily strolled into the center of the circular pit, the crowd grew very loud now, surely a fellow dark elf fighting for his life, even if it was just a male, would prove more entertaining than watching a trio of bugbear slaughtering orcs.

Dinin briefly wondered if he'd failed Jarlaxle in some fashion. But the mercenary leader had not expressed great displeasure with his work until now.

Or was this just for Jarlaxle's own amusement? Dinin was almost afraid to know what went on under that ridiculous hat.

There would of course be time to consider all that, if he survived. The noble Do'Urden--for Dinin would always consider himself a noble, regardless of his social situation--cracked his knuckles and drew his sword. The crowd cheered, Dinin ignored them.

Well . . . mostly he ignored them. He could not help making a show of looking around, then shrugging to the crowd. Where was his opponent?

He got his answer all too soon as he felt his legs knocked out from under him. He heard a loud grunt as a duergar seemed to materialize over him, hammer raised for a killing blow.

Dinin rolled to his feet and the hammer came down inches from where his head had been. The duergar roared and charged, the mercenary took a moment to take in his adversary.

The gray dwarf wielded a rather unimpressive war hammer. Considering that duergar weapons were almost as excellent in appearance as those built by the drow this looked as if it were forged by goblins. His armor too looked like so many scraps of leather. He wore no boots on his feet, and only a pair of cloth bracers on his arms.

The noble mercenary got to his feet quickly, and blocked another attack by the duergar's hammer, this time he followed up with a quick downward slash for the gray dwarf's bald, unprotected head.

As quickly as Dinin's sword moved, so did the duergar's arm, coming up to block the blade and protect his head.

Dinin's blade slammed into the duergar's bracer and . . . stopped.

Dinin looked at the spectacle in surprise, so the dwarf had a few tricks up his sleeve.

The duergar sneered at Dinin and began to chuckle, then Dinin felt his legs knocked out from under him again, and a second gray dwarf was revealed!


	2. The Champion

**Author's Note:** Chapter one was cut into two parts because of its length. Every chapter ended up this way to keep them short and relieve eyestrain.

**Chapter I  
****Part II**

The duergar's axe came whistling down and Dinin just barely managed to roll out of the way in time to avoid it, he came to his feet and held his sword firmly in both hands.

So there were two dwarves?

The second was as unimpressive as the first, though his axe was of exceedingly fine quality his appearance otherwise matched his companion's.

The first duergar came in at Dinin, swinging his warhammer , a wild roar escaping his lips. Dinin charged as well, he simply chose to charge in the opposite direction.

It was a . . . tactical maneuver.

As he 'charged' he thought of all the ways he'd make Jarlaxle pay for this.

He turned as he neared the edge of the circle, he held his sword with one hand and reached behind his back with the other, he waited for the duergar to strike. They grinned at each other, and the one with the axe fell back a bit, allowing his companion to take the first swing.

Despite this good luck, Dinin cursed Jarlaxle once more before he lunged for his opponent, whose bracers had stopped his sword just moments ago.

Dinin thrust his sword forward, its blade thirsting for duergar blood, but again the bracers deflected it. But Dinin learned from his mistakes--however rare they might have been--and had expected this so as the duergar moved his hand to protect his heart Dinin quickly drew a dagger from his boot and sent it flying for the throat of his enemy.

The dwarf's grin disappeared in that instant as blood poured down his chest, he clutched the wound with a look of disbelief on his face as Dinin quickly struck out with his sword to finish the job.

The second came in fast, roaring with a berserker's fury! Dinin brought his sword up to defend himself, and the axe crashed into it, knocking it aside as if it were a toy!

The noble mercenary dodged out of the way of the axe, having no enchanted bracers of his own with which to block the attack. He held his sword in both hands now and struck out at the dwarf, his attack aimed for the duergar's shoulder.

And the axe came up to block quickly. Dinin made a second strike immediately, thrusting forward to bury the blade in the duergar's chest, and again he was thwarted.

Dinin took a few careful steps back, the dwarf rushed for him, and Dinin deflected his axe. Then with all the speed and strength he could muster he swung his blade, cutting the duergar's axe arm!

He did not sever the limb, but he did leave a nasty wound. The dwarf however took a step back and tried to change weapon hands.

Dinin charged in on him and struck, his sword's tip seeking the heart of the gray dwarf. The drow elf cried out in satisfaction as his blade cut into the duergar, burying itself deep in its chest. But the dwarf did not have the decency to die right then and there, instead he raised his axe and chopped at Dinin!

The surprised mercenary barely had time to react but by releasing his own sword and throwing himself to the side he managed to avoid death and the axe just nicked his shoulder.

Dinin grinned at the dying duergar, for it was indeed his turn to grin, then retrieved his sword. Though the dying dwarf mustered the strength to spit at Dinin's feet, the dark elf only laughed at so feeble an act of revenge. The crowd cheered and Dinin felt positively superior.

He was above these fools, their need for such low brow entertainment proved that. And now they hailed him, the victor, applauded him, cheered for him, and how right it was for them to do so! It was of course something that had happened very rarely in the noble turned mercenary's life, but he felt like it should happen more often.

He continued feeling superior until they began to throw raw and rotting meat to him . . . then he was simply annoyed. He was no slave in need of table scraps, he was--or had been elderboy Dinin Do'Urden of the eighth house!

However he would ignore their ignorance for now, he turned to the body of the first duergar, and removed the bracers. To the victor, after all . . .

* * *

"Lady of Loss, he's killed them both!" Elkantar exclaimed, "So this is the power of your Bregan D'aerthe mercenaries?" He asked Jarlaxle.

Jarlaxle nodded, though he considered Dinin to be above the average there was no need for Elkantar to know this.

"My master will be most pleased if mighty Jarlaxle would pledge such impressive warriors to his cause." Elkantar said.

"Then your master may make me an offer in person." Jarlaxle smiled. "I warn you, great quality demands a great price."

"Our fortune is limitless." Elkantar boasted.

"Then he and this lost lady have nothing to worry about." Jarlaxle said with a sly wink, though he noticed Elkantar bristle the same way most females did right before slapping someone and screaming 'sacrilege!'

Lady of Loss . . . where had Jarlaxle heard that before?

* * *

"An exceptional performance!" Elkantar greeted, "I thought for sure you were doomed! If I had a few slaves like you I would have wealth to rival a dragon's hoard, do you have any idea how few people expected you to win?"

Dinin felt his eye twitch with annoyance, a trait he was certain he'd picked up only since joining Bregan D'aerthe.

"May I purchase him from you?" Elkantar asked Jarlaxle, who merely laughed. Dinin felt a shiver run up his spine. What if Jarlaxle said 'yes' and he had to serve Elkantar in those cursed pits? Normally, because he was a Menzoberranyr drow it would not be legal for Elkantar to keep him as a slave. But he was also a houseless rouge, and a male therefore he had no rights.

Jarlaxle only shook his head and cleared his throat.

"Oh! Of course, of course, your winnings . . ." Elkantar said, suddenly less jubilant.

"I will send some one to pick it up later." Jarlaxle said. "I'll take my leave now."

"So soon?" Elkantar blinked, Dinin was surprised as well, surely Jarlaxle had had some reason for coming here aside from watching him fight for his life against a pair of rabid duergar slaves.

"I am afraid that I have business to attend to, it will not wait." Jarlaxle said evenly.

Elkantar nodded, and the two mercenaries took their leave.

When they were a sufficient distance from the crowds gathering around the pit fighting Dinin dared to 'politely' ask Jarlaxle for an explanation of what had just occurred. "What in the abyss was that?" He demanded as he tightened the straps on his new bracers.

"Hmm?" Jarlaxle asked.

"What was that all about? You know, the pit fighting?" Dinin was careful not to let his voice rise any further with frustration. As far as he could tell Jarlaxle had risked him just for a bet with Elkantar.

Of course it had been quite a large bet . . .

"I thought you might like a chance to practice your technique." Jarlaxle said simply.

"Oh is _that_ all?" Dinin asked a bit too sharply, though to his relief Jarlaxle did not seem offended.

"All you are required to know." Jarlaxle admitted, "Your next assignment might prove difficult, it would not do for you to forget the basics."

"What is basic about fighting a pair of duergar on my own?" Dinin demanded, but Jarlaxle didn't answer. So Dinin asked, "What is this assignment?"

Jarlaxle laughed, "You know better than to ask me that here."

"We are at home, are we not?" Dinin asked, looking around at the streets of Menzoberranzan's market. Jarlaxle often commented that all the streets of Menzoberranzan were Bregan Dearth's home and turf.

"Any curious wizard can listen in." Jarlaxle seemed amused and Dinin wondered if perhaps some wizard was indeed watching them through a scrying bowl at that very moment.

Could this mean that this new assignment was important as well as difficult?

"Not that this assignment is overly important." Jarlaxle said, grinning as if he'd read Dinin's mind. "It is a simple matter of infiltration."

"What house?" Dinin demanded. Jarlaxle could have said 'Baenre' and not surprised Dinin in the least. He all but _expected_ Jarlaxle to find some other way to send him to his death today.

But instead he said "Kenlyl." and strangely enough Dinin found that he was quite surprised indeed.


	3. The Girl

**Chapter II  
House Kenlyl**

Ielenia sighed wearily as the goblin nurse tapped on the stable door. The young drow female turned from the lizard she was attending to see the fat, and even uglier than normal goblin waddle into the chamber with a concerned look on her face.

Ielenia scowled at her, and when this did not deepen the concern the drow knew that this could only mean that her mother was the one who had summoned her.

Ielenia was the third born of three females in her family, and though she had graduated from Arach-Tinilith--granted not with flying colors, but she had survived and graduated none the less--she remained at her mother's beck and call as if she were some worthless page prince.

Yes it was true that she preferred the stables and the lizards to the other tasks more suitable for one with aspirations to become a high priestess of Lolth, but Ielenia felt that to be worthy of such a rank would mean playing to her strengths. Not simply shouting "praise Lolth" every five minutes like the rest of them.

Riding was one of her strengths, and martial prowess was another. But neither were what made her truly useful to house Kenlyl.

She shoved her way past the goblin slave and stormed out of the stables, shoving aside a pair of guards as she did so--they were only male--and generally wearing a face that warned everyone that to get in her way would mean a terribly unpleasant death, a promise that priestesses of Lolth were always happy to keep.

But as she stormed through the halls, she did spot something that gave her pause, a group of six males and for the briefest of seconds she could have sworn she'd seen a familiar face . . . one she had not seen in years . . . one that should not have been in the Kenlyl palace.

She turned back and looked at the group of males; all five were watching her as well, very carefully. She straightened up and said, "Stop loitering about, I am sure there is work to be done somewhere!" Then she turned and stormed off.

Still, she wondered about the face she had seen . . . or thought she had seen.

She stormed into her mother's chambers, and shouted without the slightest bit of hesitation, "Whatever it has done, I assure you it will _pay_, and dearly!" She shouted.

Her mother, slender and beautiful--despite having lived nearly five hundred years--only twitched slightly in annoyance as she said, "Welcome Ielenia. I wonder . . . has your _mistake_ caused some problem I am not yet aware of? Is there some reason for your outburst? Because if there is not . . ." Her mother trailed off, but her hands moved across her snake headed whip, almost sensually caressing one of the five viper heads.

Ielenia shook her head, and her mother smiled, "Good. Now, I trust you know our guest, by his reputation if nothing else."

Ielenia certainly guessed who the male in the room was, his appearance, an eyesore to be sure, identified him plainly as the mercenary Jarlaxle. But why would the leader of Bregan D'aerthe be _here_? Why in the Kenlyl compound?

Ielenia could not suppress a grin. Something _exciting _was about to happen, and something major if her mother had paid the no doubt extraordinary price for Jarlaxle himself to be willing to appear before them!

"My dear Matron Kenlyl," Jarlaxle said, bowing so low that it was difficult to believe that he was taking this meeting as seriously as Ielenia's mother seemed to be, "I am honored that you've assembled the entire family. I do hope you are not trying to distract me with these three lovely daughters of yours."

"Intimidate" was the word Ielenia would have used. Her mother was trying to show the mercenary what sort of power Kenlyl possessed, and he clearly was not impressed.

And why should he be? Ielenia had no doubt that Bregan D'aerthe itself possessed more power than the entire Kenlyl family. If anything Jarlaxle was safer inside the Kenlyl compound than he would be inside say the Baenre complex if only because Kenlyl could not afford Bregan D'aerthe's retaliation if their leader was so much as bruised!

Baenre could of course. Baenre could afford anything.

Ielenia shifted her weight to the side and licked her lips in annoyance, she listened as her mother got down to business with the mercenary, and though at first she had no idea why her mother wanted her in the room for this, her mother soon answered the unasked question when she snapped, "And the plot against Kenlyl?"

"What plot?" Ielenia's eldest sister, Menla demanded, "Who would plot against us? Lolth favors us!"

"That is irrelevant." The Matron said coldly.

Ielenia blinked, how could Lolth's favor be irrelevant? How could anything regarding the fate of their household be irrelevant?

"Bregan D'aerthe _has_ found something out of the ordinary. There are _no_ rumors of weakness in Kenlyl; it would seem that someone is silencing troublemakers."

The Matron sat back in her chair and smiled, "How interesting . . ." She whispered.

Ielenia licked her lips, something she did whenever she was confused, or more often annoyed. Her mother was too calm for someone who apparently wanted to know whether or not her house was about to fall under attack. It made Ielenia uncomfortable.

If Jarlaxle had noticed, or even cared about the Matron's extraordinarily calm attitude he showed no sign of it. Ielenia was certain he simply did not care.

Ielenia felt uneasy, she found herself staring at Jarlaxle for some kind of clue as to what kind of plot her mother feared. Surely he knew, surely she'd told him what to look for.

But the mercenary captain's expression was unreadable. Save for when he noticed her stare and sent her a roguish wink!

Her cheeks burned, though whether through rage or embarrassment she couldn't be sure. She averted her gaze quickly and asked, "Do you know who is silencing the troublemakers?"

"Someone who plans to attack you themselves I suspect." Jarlaxle said, Ielenia decided that that made sense.

"Or someone who means to protect us . . ." Menla said thoughtfully.

"With respect, they are doing a poor job. By removing every rumor of weakness in Kenlyl they are actually drawing attention to you." Jarlaxle shrugged.

"How do you mean?" The matron demanded.

Jarlaxle smiled, "Well obviously it makes others wonder if Kenlyl is a little more determined than normal to dissuade attackers. The lack of any rumors at all only spawns a thirst for information."

Ielenia had no doubt that is was Bregan D'aerthe who would be hired to obtain information on Kenlyl's weaknesses for other houses! Why had they let this mercenary in? Now he might know all sorts of secrets about their compound! He could not be killed or Bregan D'aerthe would retaliate, he could not be set loose or he would sell the information!

But her mother laughed. The old Matron leaned back and laughed loudly and freely, it was a terrible sound to Ielenia, for whenever he mother laughed, either Lolth was particularly pleased with then--which did not seem to be the case after all if someone was planning to attack them--or someone was about to be offered up to their dark deity.

Ielenia shifted uncomfortably, and her mother's gaze fell on her.

"What has Mivindep to say of our new weapon?"

Ielenia bristled, she loathed it when her mother spoke as if Ielenia's property were her own instead, and the weapon _was_ Ielenia's.

"Mivindep has told me that the _Sarol's_ progress is fantastic." Ielenia offered.

"Can it be used yet?" The matron asked.

"No." Ielenia said flatly.

"This is by whose estimation? Mivindep's or your own?"

Ielenia fought hard to hold back her scowl, "He and I concur on this matter, my matron."

The Matron nodded and stood up in her chair, "This weapon will make our victory against our unseen enemy a certainty. Bring it here, Ielenia." she smiled at Jarlaxle, "I am afraid you cannot be here to witness this."

The mercenary shrugged, and bowed his head ever so slightly, "Then I shall leave you to your planning. Do not hesitate to call upon me again."

Ielenia watched the mercenary leave and shook her head. What an odd creature that Jarlaxle was.

"Are you still here?" Her mother asked. "I do believe I requested my weapon?"

_You mean _my _weapon_ Ielenia thought bitterly. She allowed herself a scowl, but only after she had left her mother's audience chambers.

* * *

Dinin sighed as the Kenlyl daughter passed by, she was obviously distracted but even so he'd noticed her eyes lock onto him.

How long ago had it been? More than a decade at least, still she'd recognized him . . . or perhaps not. What had her name been? Dinin had always been far more interested in her body than her name . . . was it Elaine? Maybe she did not recognize him either, maybe she had. But there was no point in taking chances. Curse Jarlaxle, this entire infiltration must have been his twisted idea of a joke!

He strolled casually through the halls of the Kenlyl compound, dressed as a member of Kenlyl's house guard he managed to go about unopposed. He had abandoned the two Kenlyl guards that had so obligingly been giving himself, another Bregan D'aerthe agent, and two rogues the tour and basics of their new masters, House Kenlyl.

Dinin knew the nonsense new soldiers were treated to, he'd actually given a tour or two in the days of Do'Urden's glory, new soldiers were never shown the really important things . . . the things Dinin needed to see if his mission was to be successful.


	4. The Weapon

**Chapter II  
Part II**

Dinin's mission was a simple one, gather information on the complex that would allow an attacker to remove Kenlyl's ability to resist as quickly as possible and with as few losses as possible.

His main objectives were the sleeping chambers of the princesses, and the location of the house weapons stores though drow always carried weapons of their own. It seemed a pointless mission, but one he could have easily accomplished given a few months, or perhaps a year to infiltrate the place.

He had been involved with one of the Kenlyl priestesses they had always used neutral ground for their liaisons. He'd never been _inside_ the complex before, and before long he realized that he was lost.

He sighed in exasperation, he was going about this all wrong, seeing _her_ had thrown him off, left him feeling as if there were a sense of urgency that did not really exist. Jarlaxle had not said when the information would be needed, Dinin might well have a decade.

Princesses bedded house soldiers with such frequency that even if she recognized him as a past lover, she still might not realize who he really was. And _if_ she made him it would be unfortunate . . . for her. He would not let some old flame interfere with his mission. In any event she would be dead soon enough if Jarlaxle's desire for information on the houses defenses meant what Dinin suspected it meant.

Kenlyl was doomed. Dinin knew that the instant Jarlaxle ordered him to infiltrate them, for certainly one of Dinin's _immense_ talents would not have been sent had the mission not been vital.

Dinin took a deep breath, how long had he been wandering about?

He could see no one at all. It seemed as if he'd wandered into a completely deserted section of the compound . . . how very interesting . . . and incredibly coincidental.

He put his hand on the hilt of his sword as he walked, and looked cautiously around each corner.

There was nothing here, not even spiders on the ground . . . Dinin wondered why. Spiders had free roam in Menzoberrazan, he'd never found a place not inhabited by spiders, but this area had been cleared away . . . why?

He came to a T junction, he supposed he should go back but to go on . . . to explore this place might yield profit . . . and yet he'd be a fool to do it alone. There were other members of Bregan D'aerthe wandering about the compound, he could find some of them and they could explore this place, perhaps it would yield great secrets.

But he did not know how he had gotten here, suppose he could not find his way back? Perhaps it was a trap! Dinin hadn't lived this long taking stupid chances, he wasn't abut to explore this dark place by himself.

He heard foot steps behind him, and the words _run, now!_ were the first to come to his mind. He ran down the left path!

Rushing down the suspiciously spider free corridors Dinin of no house worth mentioning ran! If he was found here, if this place contained things he was not meant to see no one would believe or even care that he hadn't seen them!

Drow needed so few reasons to kill one another.

He stopped his run only long enough to hear that the steady footsteps had broken into a run as well. It did not surprise Dinin that he'd been heard, for some reason when he thought about running he'd simply done it, he had not even stopped to consider the fact that stealth might have been more intelligent . . .

He ran on, but the foot steps were gaining!

He saw a passage to the left and entered it. He threw himself against the wall and drew his sword, standing with his back pressed against the wall he stood perfectly still and waited for his pursuer . . .

It was a fat and rather ugly--more so than normal that is--goblin.

How had a goblin gained ground on him?

He waited patiently but no drow followed, for the noble born drow had assumed the goblin had been a diversion, or perhaps fodder meant to protect any drow warriors following.

But a long time passed and no one crossed in front of Dinin.

Now, his curiosity perked Dinin decided to follow the goblin.

* * *

Ielenia had sent her goblin nurse on ahead to inform Mivindep that she would be arriving soon to take the weapon to her Matron.

The wizard, or whatever he was would be annoyed, Ielenia knew. She was annoyed too. She and Mivindep did not often agree in things pertaining to the preparation of the weapon, but they both agreed it was not ready to be used in combat. It would only be a failure and a waste.

The drow priestess walked slowly down the corridors, following a path that she took daily. She heard the goblin begin to run up ahead, and smiled. So finally the fat fool was putting some haste to her orders.

* * *

Dinin dashed down the corridor after the goblin. The creature came to a large door which it opened and ran through shouting "Weapon! Mistress needs weapon!"

"Silence." A voice said softly. There was an odd sound, and the goblin flew out of the room, slamming into the wall.

Dinin held perfectly still and listened to the wizard—for that is what Dinin assumed was behind that door given the obvious display of magic—speak softly.

"Alas, our time draws to an end. The Matron Mother requires her secret weapon."

A weapon . . . now this would be interesting, and just the thing Jarlaxle would want to know about. Dinin hid himself, eager to get a glimpse of the weapon.

But nothing happened. Some moments passed and he heard footsteps, He held perfectly still as the Kenlyl princess passed and, stepping over the goblin, entered the room. She was not attacked by the wizard, as the goblin had been.

"Mivindep, my mother demands—"

"You insult me." The wizard said flatly.

"I . . . well of course you—"

"Know? Yes. I knew even _before_ that fat goblin of yours interrupted my work."

"I . . . apologize." The princess sighed.

But the wizard ignored her and instead said in a voice a little louder, "You may enter, warrior. We know you are out there."

"What? What do you mean?" The princess demanded.

Dinin felt an urge to flee, to save himself and escape from discovery, but then in his mind he heard, _That was _not _a request._

His legs began to move, he walked through the doorway and found a large but empty room, inside were only three drow, a tall slender wizard, the princess and a small child.

The Princess wore robes of Lolth, but had a sword strapped to her belt instead of one of those disgusting serpent whips. Dinin remembered she had not yet achieved the rank of High Priestess during their association. He supposed the same held true still.

The wizard was tall and dressed in rather fine robes, he was holding a crystal in one hand, the other he held behind his back. His appearance was quite striking, but something seemed unnatural about him.

The child was clearly very young. Perhaps, had she been male, she would be of age to become a page prince. Her clothing was little better than that of a page prince, a frayed and damaged tunic, a tattered _piwafwi,_ the hood pulled down. Dinin supposed she must be a commoner. Perhaps she was a servant of the wizard. A female since they were less often questioned. Young enough not to carnally distract him, and old enough to be able to perform most errands.

"As you can see, mistress Ielenia, we have a guest." The wizard said, his face expressionless.

The princess stared at Dinin for a moment, the wizard smiled darkly. "You are-" she gasped, then looked at the wizard, Mivindep.

He nodded and said softly, "Do'Urden."

Dinin flinched. How could this wizard have known that? Dinin did not recall ever meeting him before.

"Do'Urden?" The child whispered.

Dinin scowled, and fought against Mivindep's control of his body. He found he still had control over his mouth as he said "You have me confused with someone else, mistress. I am Zidan, a most loyal servant of house Kenlyl."

The princess smiled and said, "Oh I do not believe so, Dinin. That is your name after all. Dinin Do'Urden, how could you expect me to forget you? Dinin Do'Urden, the soon to be deceased prince of a currently deceased house. Dinin Do'Urden my former and most secret lover, and," The princess looked to the child, "Dinin Do'Urden; it's father."

Father? Dinin felt a strange prickling in his head.

He was a father? He supposed it was possible, he and this princess had been together often enough. He found himself however caring far less than he'd thought he would should such an event ever come about.

So the child was his? What did it matter? He was not old enough to have sired very many, but this probably was not the only one. Drow society favored females, if a female had a child it needn't affect her lover at all.

Perhaps one of the few benefits males enjoyed.

To Dinin's surprise however he was suddenly no longer the center of attention. Mivindep turned to the child and said, "As I suspected the Matron wishes to see my progress." He handed the crystal to the child, "Take this before the Matron. Inform her that once used, it shall not be ready again for three days."

The small girl pulled her hood back revealing long slightly wavy silvery hair, and a rather pretty face. But what leapt out and struck Dinin was her eyes!

Beautiful eyes they were, beautiful _violet_ eyes.

But Dinin also saw the crystal, so that was the secret weapon of House Kenlyl? He wondered what it could possibly do.

"As for the rogue," Ielenia smiled, "I think . . . I would like to be left alone with him. Minvindep, you take the _Sarol_ to my mother."

"Is that a command?" The wizard asked in a bored voice.

"It is as always a gentle request. You are being well paid to prepare this weapon for my mother, I would think you should like to see it perform." Ielenia said.

"To remain alone with the mercenary is unwise. You should take the weapon before the matron, I know that your _Sarol_ will impress her. But I am not here for the gold so your mother's whim does not apply to me. You _live_ by her whim." Mivindep said. "I shall perform the interrogation."

"What concern of yours is that?" Ielenia demanded, "You have never been concerned with Kenlyl business!"

Mivindep nodded, "What concerns me it that like you, he is so _ordinary_. What drew him here? The weapon perhaps?"

Ielenia shifted, "_I_ must interrogate him."

"There will be enough left for you when I am done. He shall not be damaged." Mivindep said.

Ielenia frowned, but nodded. "Send him to my quarters undamaged, but bound. Do not let anyone see him, my mother and sisters especially."

Dinin scowled. Despite their rather pleasant history he doubted that Ielenia wanted him to visit her quarters for anything pleasant.

The princess began to leave the room, her child and the weapon moving in her shadow. The wizard turned back to her and called, "You do not plan to tell your matron of his presence?"

"Not yet." Ielenia admitted. "I will take what I need from him first."

Mivindep remained expressionless and said, "Ah. You know that I know all the answers, and still you seek to find them for yourself. Very well, I will send him to your chambers, unspoiled and bound for you."

Dinin shuddered, it had been a long time since he had last been tied up for the sake a female, and that time it had not been for pleasure either.

**Author's Note:** Ah her uncle's eyes. From day one of writing this series those eyes got me a lot of bashing. Friends who read this story's sequel (which was written first) insisted after I revealed that the girl was not Drizzt's daughter, that they couldn't be purple and that Drizzt was a freak and there was no way that anyone but his daughter would have purple eyes. Blue, green, even yellow they said, but certainly not violet!

I say that's nonsense, utterly unimportant to _my_ story so she's always had violet eyes. She is not based on Drizzt, and I do not see why he should ruin it for everyone just because he came first. I like her eyes this way and there's not really anything _anyone _can do to get me to change it, moan and whine about how normal drow can't have them if you must but I'll probably ignore you.


	5. The Threat

**Chapter III  
Dark Threat**

Pharn lounged back on a large cushion, fed by a pair of ravishing females. The wizard enjoyed more comfort than a male would normally be afforded, and it was comfort that Pharn should not have been able to afford.

His master of course was able to afford it, and Pharn was most pleased to keep his master's lounge warm while he was away. The females could not have cared less and continued to fulfill their duty, which was to serve in _every_ way possible.

Ah, Pharn would be quite pleased when he finally overthrew his master and claimed it all for himself.

The wizard yawned lazily and looked to the fully clothed and rather masculine female standing before him, her hands over her hips, each millimeters away from the twin light maces she wore. "It is always a pleasure to see you, my dear." Pharn lied. "What might I do for you?"

"Well Pha—" The female began, but Pharn held up a hand to silence her.

"No. No names dear one." Pharn said.

"Very well . . ." The female growled, clearly annoyed at being interrupted, "As you wish. In that case I should like to tell you that my Matron has pledged herself to your cause. House H—that is, our House stands ready to support you."

Pharn smiled, he wondered if this brawny priestess and her matron had any idea what they were _really_ agreeing to.

He doubted it. They would never have agreed if they knew the truth.

"There is a condition." The priestess said.

"Hmm?" Pharn raised a single questioning eyebrow. He was quite surprised, though he did not allow it to show.

"My Matron, she has heard that our enemies, House—"

"I know who your enemies are." Pharn said, annoyed that the priestess refused to catch on to the "no names" rule.

"Yes . . . well they have a secret weapon . . . my Matron demands it be eliminated so that no disaster befall our house whilst we are aiding _you_."

"Annihilate a secret weapon? A minor request." Pharn said, and though it was actually not such a simple matter, his clever mind quickly thought of a way to turn the situation to his advantage. "The weapon will be gone from your enemy's house before our plans move forward."

The priestess nodded, and promptly took her leave.

Pharn shook his head. He knew perfectly well that it was House Kenlyl that the brawny priestess' matron feared. Knew that the Kenlyl matron had no only been invited into the conspiracy and had not responded favorably.

This would be perfect, he could keep his word and remove the weapon. Then he could ransom the weapon back to Kenlyl in exchange for their cooperation. Perhaps if the weapon was truly powerful it would be a fine tribute to his mistress.

A secret weapon, Pharn thought, would be just the thing for the willing and unknowing servants of the Lady of Loss.

He clapped his hands, and a new drow walked right out of the shadows.

He was tall for a male, his stark white hair was cut short, not even shoulder length, and though he wore a house amulet the symbol had been scratched and scarred beyond recognition. Nonetheless Pharn could feel the magic emanating from it.

The youth stood before him and bowed ever so slightly.

"No time for your sarcasm, my servant." Pharn said, for that was what the bow had been, and he had told this one not to be so very disrespectful. _It is time for another infiltration, my skilled assassin._ Pharn communicated in the silent code of the drow, _I want that secret weapon. Take their youngest princess, but do not kill her. She will know of the weapon for my source informs me that it is of her creation. She is the least experienced, she will fall easily._

_Why not have your _source_ take the weapon?_ The assassin signed with an amused grin.

_Because I need someone with . . . finesse. _Pharn smiled, though not pleasantly _Go._

The assassin bowed again, and disappeared into the cold shadows.

* * *

Dinin would have liked to rub his cheek where Ielenia had--without explanation--slapped him a few moments ago. However his hands were tied behind his back quite expertly, his legs too were bound.

Ielenia held his sword arms length away from him, and he could not take it. "I know you serve Jarlaxle. Why else would I find you here on the same day that he comes to speak with my mother?"

"Coincidence." Dinin offered. He knew he'd do better not to speak at all, but given the fact that he was going to die anyway he supposed he might as well try to have fun with the questions.

"Do not play me for a fool," Ielenia hissed, then threw the blade on the ground and began to pace.

The child--Ielenia seemed not to care if her daughter witnessed the interrogation--rushed over and picked it up off of the floor, and set it on a nearby desk. Ielenia began to mumble dark things to herself.

'Should have let Mivindep tare his mind apart' and 'how did he know about my _Sarol_?" were the only coherent things Dinin caught . . . aside from a colorful list of profanities.

Dinin smiled and said, "You know this does bring back memories. Why not let me go . . . for old time's sake?"

Ielenia smiled, "Ah, I had almost forgotten how you liked to have your little jokes."

Dinin shrugged, "What do you expect to gain from me? I can tell you every secret I know of House Do'Urden. But how will it benefit you now?"

Ielenia scoffed, "Fool! I want to know about Bregan D'aerthe! I know you are with Jarlaxle, do not lie to me!"

"Very well then, I shall not." Dinin shrugged again, and said nothing more since the temptation to lie right away was rather powerful.

After a long pause, when it became clear that Dinin wasn't going to say anything else Ielenia snapped, "How did he find out about it? Was it Menla? She barely understands the nature of it!"

"You mean your weapon?" Dinin forced a laugh, "Well not being in the service of Jarlaxle I cannot say for sure, but do you truly think that _you_ can keep a secret from Bregan D'aerthe?"

Ielenia scowled and rushed over to slap him again when suddenly the child leapt up, which caused Ielenia to stop dead in her tracks.

The girl--whose name, Dinin realized he had not caught--began to look about the room. Why this should be an unusual event was beyond Dinin, but it seemed to give Ielenia pause.

"Go to your quarters and . . . pray." Ielenia said, sounding unsure.

The child frowned and sent her mother a betrayed look, but Ielenia's hand had dropped to her rapier. The girl did not question and hurried into the other room.

Dinin understood, Ielenia had not wanted to kill him in front of their daughter. Oddly considerate, most drow would not have cared, nor would most drow children.

Ielenia walked quickly to the door to her chambers and locked it. She moved out to the balcony and looked around for a moment before coming back and closing its heavy door.

"We seem to be alone." She said softly.

Now Dinin was confused, was she trying to make a move on him? Was _that _why she'd sent the child away? What was going on here?

Ielenia's rapier came out of its scabbard and she paced the room. She scowled at Dinin as if he'd done something wrong and said "There is no one here!"

Dinin shrugged helplessly. "It seems so." He said.

Ielenia cursed and stomped over to the door the child had retreated behind, and kicked it open.

"No more of your nonsense you—" She began and then fell silent. She took a step back as a drow male emerged from the room behind the closed door, holding Ielenia's daughter firmly with a knife to her throat.

"Greetings Ielenia Kenlyl. I have come for your secret weapon," He winked at Dinin, "I do hope I am not interrupting anything."

Dinin made a face—he could do little else—and Ielenia swore.

"Do you serve Jarlaxle as well, or does _everyone _know about my weapon?" She demanded.

The assassin shrugged, "My master does and his name is not your concern. Beyond that . . . I do not care." He smiled, "Now drop the blade and give me this secret weapon, or this future priestess becomes a head shorter."

Ielenia looked surprised, Dinin wasn't. He'd certainly have threatened the child if he were in the assassin's position. And, were he in Ielenia's position he'd have cut through the child to get the assassin, he could have more to replace it later.

Ielenia however dropped her rapier.

So now Dinin knew her weakness, too bad he was helpless to exploit it. Worse it did not seem as if he'd ever see a chance to do so in the future, or even, for that matter, see a future.


	6. The Assassin

**Chapter III  
****Part II**

Enialis smiled as the priestess dropped her rapier, he gripped the child more tightly as she began to squirm. He hadn't expected threatening the child to work, even if she was a female this princess was the last in line for the throne of her clan, and by the looks of her far from becoming a high priestess.

The child, regardless of her mother's social standing, was a mere commoner. Unimportant and expendable.

Never surrender an advantage, the assassin decided, and he said "Send it over here."

The priestess scowled as she retrieved the rapier and threw the blade _at_ him rather than to him. But Enialis easily caught it anyway, throwing the girl aside in order to do so. Now he held _all_ the swords in the room.

Finally freed, the girl hid behind a nearby desk. Enialis gave a thin smile. If he let the girl live she'd have nightmares about him for the rest of her life . . . that would be too cruel, he'd best put her out of her misery once he'd taken the weapon.

Her mother stood there, scowling. "I will never give you the weapon."

"Ignorance coats your words. We have not yet gotten to know one another. I am _terribly _persuasive." Enialis smiled.

The female scowled, and drew a dagger from her boot, she lunged forward, Enialis crossed both his knife and her sword behind his back, and kicked her in the stomach.

She knew how to take a hit though, and the dagger arced in on his neck!

Enialis threw himself backwards, tumbling and coming up with both blades facing the priestess, he sprang forward and would have left a bloody X across her chest, but her reaction was far faster than he'd expected.

_Very well,_ he decided, _she is no novice . . ._ he spun, knocking her knife wide with his own, using the rapier to block her lightning fast counter attack. He shoved his own knife into its sheathe at his hip, and with the same hand drew his own sword.

As he spun about this time his sword came speeding towards her heart, and the kill would have been his had the female not thrown a char at him, knocking his legs out from under him!

* * *

Dinin scowled as Ielenia threw the assassin her blade, she did not even make a real attempt to impale him!

Dinin sighed as the girl was thrown aside and hid near Ielenia's desk. So his daughter was, at least, intelligent.

A trait clearly not inherited from her mother Dinin decided, as Ielenia sprang for the assassin with not but a dagger.

He still believed her a fool for not cutting through the child to get the assassin. Why not, after all? The girl was a commoner, she was better than dirt _only_ because she was a drow!

Dinin scowled at Ielenia and hoped she died.

The girl however looked at him, her eyes narrowed and her hand shot towards something laying on her mother's desk.

Dinin's sword!

She tore the sword from its scabbard and grasped the hilt with both hands. Clearly unable to so much as swing the blade, the child was far from intimidating.

So she was as stupid as her mother after all. Dinin sighed again.

But the girl's violet eyes flashed as she dragged the sword towards him.

Dinin smiled wickedly as the girl brought the sword up, cutting the ropes that held him, and pressing it into his hand.

His free hand he moved about in the intricate hand code of the drow, telling the child _My_ _legs are still bound_.

He felt the girl guide his sword down to the bands at his leg, and cut them loose. He took a deep breath. How useful children could be. No wonder old Matron Malice had had so many.

Dinin stood perfectly still, pretending to still be tied, as he waited for the perfect opportunity to jump in.

If the assassin were serving Jarlaxle, it was too bad for him. Jarlaxle had not informed Dinin that there would be an attempt on the priestess, if he slew this assassin he could hardly be blamed!

As for Ielenia, well he could not kill her. He would never escape the house alive if he did.

The assassin however was fair game.

He knocked the priestess's dagger out of her hand, and she retaliated by throwing a stool at him, knocking his feet out from under him.

The assassin tumbled backwards and came up on one knee, both his sword and Ielenia's rapier in hand.

He sneered at her, but did not seem to pay any mind to Dinin. He sprang for the unarmed Ielenia who it seemed was beginning to cast a spell.

Dinin sprang, he swung his sword, clashing with the assassin's two blades.

The male grinned at him, "You wish to play as well? The weapon must be quite impressive if Kenlyl will hire a pit champion to guard it."

"Ah, my admiring public." Dinin grinned.

"Actually I bet against you." The assassin sneered, "But you shall now repay me in blood!"

_Talk on fool_! Dinin thought. He struck for the assassin, who deflected the attack exactly as he was meant to. Dinin threw himself to the side, allowing Ielenia's spell a clear line of sight!

The priestess finished her casting, and a soft green glow filled the room, a swirling vortex appeared over Ielenia's head, and she snapped a command. A strange looking creature emerged from the vortex.

It was a bird of some sort, Dinin had seen pictures of them in the academy, had been told they were predators, birds of prey . . . what was it called again? A sock? It didn't matter, this one was different than the birds of the surface, perhaps so because it was summoned by a drow and not some weak surface elf.

Whatever the reason the creature was positively fiendish and therefore far more attractive than its mild surface cousins.

It swooped like lightning and flew for the assassin's face, he brought his sword arm up to block and to Dinin's surprise the bird struck all the same, only it struck the assassin's hand, and tore Ielenia's rapier from it.

The assassin clenched his bleeding fist and his other sword came up swiftly, but only managed to damage the bird's tail feathers.

The creature dropped the rapier into Ielenia's hands, and then fell from the sky, the assassin's dagger protruding from its back.

The assassin smirked as Ielenia and Dinin both advanced on him, he left his fighting stance and stood up straight, slid his sword back into its scabbard and clasped his hands over his heart. "I am no match for you both, so I shall admit defeat . . ." He said with a sarcastic tone that Dinin did not much care for.

The mercenary did not much care for the surrender either. Without truly understanding why, Dinin threw himself forward, sword ready to pierce into the other drow's heart when he noticed something small in the dark elf's hand . . . a ring?

The assassin leapt backwards once to escape Dinin's attack, then again onto Ielenia's balcony. Dinin saw him throw _himself_ over the edge, as he fell he slid the ring onto his finger and disappeared!

Dinin cursed, and glared at the ground below, hoping for some sort of impact cloud, a pool of blood to appear, something, anything to show that the assassin had not survived the fall.

But he saw nothing, he turned back to Ielenia in order to determine whether or not she meant to go ahead with killing him, but she was focusing on their daughter, checking the child for any injuries.

Dinin did not understand, the girl had not really been in any danger, but Ielenia acted as if the slightest scratch on the child would be a disaster.

Perhaps that was the way mothers treated their female children? Dinin had never seen such attention whenever he received an injury--usually given to him by his eldest sister--Malice had barely even acknowledged his existence in fact, when he was this girl's age.

And how easy it would be to kill Ielenia now, with her back turned to him . . .

_But that is not your mission_, he decided. He would let her live . . . for now.

She looked back at him, her expression greatly changed from the scowl she wore before, now she was smiling a cocky self sure smile. "I did not expect your aid." She said.

"I did not expect to give it." Dinin admitted. "The child freed me, I was only repaying the favor." He smiled sweetly at the child and said, "Though I would have cut through her to get to the assassin when I had the chance, had I been in your place."

The girl's eyes widened, but Ielenia nodded. Dinin noticed that though she was not holding it in a threatening position, her rapier was still battle ready. "My mother must be informed about this attack . . . you will be here when I return . . . if you are I will know that I can trust you. If you are not . . . well you know _nothing_ that would damage this house, and you know nothing of my _Sarol_."

Dinin shrugged, and Ielenia left.

The child remained, Dinin wondered briefly if perhaps he might convince the girl to give him her mother's weapon, clearly she knew of it for she was the wizard Mivindep's servant . . .

He smiled. He was her father after all, and they had so much to catch up on. Perhaps it was time to have a nice long discussion and get to know his daughter . . .

Children were stupid after all, if he could get her talking he was certain he could get her to give him the weapon.

The first thing he did to his daughter was lie, "You know what I said to your mother about cutting through you . . . it was only a jest. I would _never_ have allowed harm to come to you, my only child."

Though the girl's expression told him that he had failed to fool her, he was not surprised. That lie was far too unrealistic to be remotely believable.

* * *

Enialis did several things all at once. The first thing he did was call upon the powers of his family seal, enacting a levitation spell. He then threw himself over the balcony and slipped his ring over his finger.

He disappeared, and landed softly on the ground. He smiled, any house wizard worth his salt would be able to see him, so he placed his sword in its scabbard and moved quickly for the gates.

He had left his dagger, he realized. He would have to return for it. But first he would have to report to Pharn.

The wizard would not be pleased . . .

As he retreated to Menzoberranzan's streets he noticed a pair of drow, their heads covered by hoods, converging on him as if they could see him. His first thought was to try to throw off pursuit but before he could give that any real consideration a pair of strong arms grabbed him, a blade was pressed to his neck and a voice whispered into his ear, "Hold fast or die!"

The assassin reacted immediately, ripping one of his arms free, and drawing his sword he plunged it deep into the throat of the first hooded attacker.

His other hand shot down to his short sword, now with a blade in each hand he turned to the other two, one of which had drawn a pair of short swords, the other had drawn a hand crossbow.

Enialis rushed forward, the street cleared quickly as most drow knew that they did not need to be part of a fight to be killed in it. The crossbow fired, and Enialis brought his sword up just in time to deflect the bolt.

He reached his foe, who did not bother trying to add another bolt to the crossbow, and instead drew a Morningstar from his belt.

Enialis struck like lightning, knocking the Morningstar wide with his sword, then plunging in for the kill with his short sword. The blade punched through his attacker's fine chain armor and penetrating straight to his heart. Enialis whispered a magic word and a strong jolt of electricity flowed through the blade into his foe, ensuring the drow's death.

The assassin tore the blade free, and grinned wickedly at the third attack, who was now accompanied by a fourth, this one wielding a greatsword.

It was an unusual weapon for a drow, but Enialis paid it no mind. He leapt back into a more defensive stance and let the pair come on.

He used all of his speed to avoid the greatsword, while throwing his skill into deflecting the twin blades of his other foe. Enialis ducked, dodged, weaved and leapt to avoid strike after strike.

The skilled assassin realized he was in trouble. Either of these foes he could have easily killed, but these two worked well together, and though he noticed some weak spots as he observed the pair, they moved too quickly for him to take advantage of them.

That's when he felt a sharp pain in the small of his back.

The assassin had been shot before, though rarely and he knew what it felt like to be shot.

The battle was over, and he'd not really understood why it had begun. _No matter,_ he thought as he felt the poison overpowering him. He fell to his knees and felt sleep coming over him, his two attackers stopped and watched calmly as the fifth emerged and stood over him. Smiling down at him was a face Enialis had never seen before, had worked very hard to avoid ever seeing before, but recognized instantly.

With the eye patch over his right eye, and his pompous hat covering his shaven scalp, few drow would dare imitate _the_ Jarlaxle.


	7. The Child

**Chapter IV  
Weapons and Warfare**

Dinin spread his arms wide, "And that is how I defeated the minotaur."

The child clapped enthusiastically, which Dinin liked, though it had really been a story of Zaknafein's fighting prowess, Dinin had made all the necessary changes to shine the heroic light on himself.

What was the deceased old Do'Urden weapons master going to do about it? Nothing: that's what.

"Very well child, I have told you a story about myself . . . now tell me something of you." He said.

"Such as?" The child asked.

"Well . . ." Dinin said, thinking for something to work with. He could not go straight to asking her about the weapon, it would be too suspicious. "tell me about the other children."

"What about them?"

Dinin shrugged, she seemed too young to be interested in males, though he had to admit around her age he had been a page prince, and far too busy looking at his own feet to see the beauty of the female body. Since she was clearly free to look at whatever she wanted—as most females were—perhaps it was different. "What about the males? I am sure they do not give you a moment of rest."

"They dislike me." She said darkly. "I dislike them."

"Oh really?" Dinin sighed, "That shall change in a decade or two."

"I do not believe it will." The girl sighed.

"Well, you are still very young." Dinin smiled.

"It does not matter. I am forbidden to speak to other children. I am forbidden to speak to anyone but my family, and my master."

"You are speaking to me." Dinin said.

"You are my father and therefore family." The girl shrugged.

Dinin shrugged back, "Well . . . you are the wizard's assistant, are you not?"

"Wizard?" The girl arched one of her eyebrows at him.

"Mivindep, the wizard from before." Dinin explained. Mivindep _was_ a wizard, wasn't he?

"Mivindep?" The girl frowned, "Oh yes, well . . . he is not what he seems." She said slowly.

Dinin's interest was perked, "Oh really?" He asked.

"Yes . . ." The girl's frown deepened.

"And what do you do for him?" Dinin asked, "Anything . . . important?"

"Anything to do with my mother's weapon you mean." The girl said.

"So you _do_ know about it?" Dinin asked.

The girl frowned even more deeply, and lowered her gaze, "I . . . know that no one understands it. No matter what mother claims, she does not understand it." The child stood up and said, "Mivindep would have you believe he understands it, and perhaps he does. But he seeks only to use it for his own gains, and cares nothing of Kenlyl."

"And what are his goals?" Dinin asked.

The girl laughed softly, "I do not know. In any case you have asked too many questions of me, I must know more of you."

Dinin shrugged, "Very well, ask." He said.

The girl looked at him for a moment, and then said, "I am not sure what to ask."

"You and I have never before met," Dinin said, "yet you have no questions?"

"I never knew I had a father." The girl said. "Mother speaks of you sometimes . . . I suppose she must mean you, she says 'how dare he afflict me with such a child' or 'the price I pay for a night of pleasure, at least he is dead', I never really thought of you before." She frowned and said, "I suppose I shall ask you why you have chosen now to come. Is it because of the weapon?"

"I . . . as your mother said, I am the firstboy of a dead house. I cannot be content to roam the streets as a rogue so I came to Kenlyl in hopes of working my way through the ranks, perhaps to claim the title of Weapons Master. You know I once served as a Master of Melee-Magthere."

The girl frowned, "I am sorry . . . but what is that?"

Dinin gapped, "Do you not know the academy?"

"Mivindep says that I am his, and need never go there. Mother says that I am hers, and I _will_ go there to become a priestess of Lolth even if it should kill me. Never before have I heard mention of Melee-Magthere."

Dinin shook his head, "You are being deprived. The academy houses three structures, one of which is Melee-Magthere, the school of fighters. I have been there once as a student, but I returned as a master, an instructor. I trained students since, oh before you were born I daresay."

"Then you are old." The girl reasoned.

Dinin's eye twitched, "I am _not_, That is why my being an instructor is so impressive." He said.

"Forgive me." The girl said, bowing her head slightly. Dinin, pleased with the difference shown--for it was rare that a female apologized to him--nodded in acceptance. The girl's violet eyes came back up to him and she said, "If your house is dead, why are you not?"

"Well . . . there were survivors. Besides myself there was my sister Vierna . . . and our younger brother Drizzt." Dinin said softly.

"Then . . . will your brother and sister come to serve Kenlyl as well?" The girl asked eagerly, "I should like to meet them."

"No. All things considered Vierna is a rogue like myself, and Drizzt . . . Drizzt Do'Urden is nothing but a bad dream. It was he who caused the fall of our house."

"He must be powerful." The child reasoned.

"No, that is not what I—" Dinin began, but he was cut short as Mivindep entered the room. He seemed to glide, rather than walk and Dinin saw the girl immediately mouth the word "silence" to him.

The wizard smiled and said to Dinin, "I see you are getting to know your progeny. I myself have never felt any desire to procreate, offspring are often such . . . disappointments. You however may be proud of this creature you have helped spawn."

"Creature?" Dinin scoffed, not sure why the way the wizard referred to his daughter should offend him. Perhaps because she was _his_, and therefore to be treated with respect.

The wizard's eyes seemed to flash for a moment, and he smiled, "Oh I mean no disrespect. I see Ielenia has not . . . explained matters to you. Perhaps that is for the best. Yes, I believe it is better that you not know . . . the negative."

Dinin saw the girl tense and turn away, he folded his arms and glared at the wizard, "Then do tell me the positive."

"The positive? There is nothing _you_ or many other drow would consider positive about this one." The tall wizard brought a slender, claw-like hand to his chin and said "But to me, she is most useful."

"She says you do not want her to attend the academy." Dinin said.

Mivindep shrugged. "She is not suitable. Though she is born of noble parents she herself is not noble, and so she is under no obligation to claim the title of high priestess. And it is just as well, for it would be a distraction from the duties she performs for me."

Dinin raised an eyebrow at Mivindep, "And what are those duties?"

"Why . . . the duties of an apprentice. This girl is destined for better things than to follow some unseen goddess like the rest of them do." Mivindep said coolly.

"Some would call that sacrilege." Dinin pointed out.

"And they would be correct." Mivindep said simply. "But I digress; I _did _come here for a purpose."

"And what is that?" Dinin demanded.

Mivindep's slender shoulders moved up and down in a half-interested shrug. "To learn what it is that you are doing here, to learn who sent you and why, to learn how it is that you came to know of my weapon."

"I will not tell you." Dinin scoffed.

"Oh . . . I know." Mivindep said, "But I do not intend to ask. I will _rip_ the information from your mind . . . sleep well, though I know you shan't." The wizard raised a hand and suddenly everything went black!

* * *

Dinin's mind was wracked with cruel nightmare after nightmare, he fought to wake from this sudden dream to no avail.

He saw the fall of Do'Urden only Jarlaxle did not save him, he died along with the common fodder.

He saw the battle of the tunnels where Drizzt had defeated the earth elemental, only Drizzt was not there. He fought well until the elemental came, and then he was killed.

He saw a battle decades past, one before Drizzt was even born, one where he had fought alongside his elder brother Nalfein, who had saved his life with a well timed lightning bolt.

But there was no bolt, for Nalfein was not there, and Dinin died.

_What have you done warrior? What have you done on your own? Your very life is owed to others greater than yourself. When you die, what will be your legacy? What legend will they tell of you?_

Dinin fought hard to wake, what would others say when he was gone?

Who would remember him when he was gone?

No one . . . when he died that would be the end. No one would care, he would cease to be . . .

Emptiness, nothingness, at best eternal torment for not being as insanely loyal to Lolth as the rest of them.

Who would so much as remember his name ? Who would speak fondly of him when he was gone away?

No . . . those were not the questions to ask! Dinin stopped fighting to wake from the dreams and began to fight to control them!

What would if matter to him if he was dead? Why should anyone need to remember the dead?

This was nonsense! Who cared if he had no legend of his own, if he had no legacy? He was alive, and survival was the very best most drow could wish for! Dinin Do'Urden enjoyed having the best of all things.

_That_ was his legacy! His survival! If no one remembered him when that passed, he'd be too busy being _dead_ to care anyway.

Dinin's eyes snapped open, he was laying on the ground, and looking up at the face of the wizard Mivindep.

* * *

Mivindep nodded once when he had finished taking the information from Dinin. He could almost have sworn he felt the victim begin to regain control of his mind towards the end, perhaps this one had an exceptional will.

It did not matter, Mivindep had his information.

Ah, so much useful information to Kenlyl, but of little value to Mivindep himself. Really, this was in danger of having been a complete waste of time.

He looked to his apprentice, _Ensure he is in good condition when your dam returns._

The little female drow nodded back to him, and he left the room.

Would he tell the Kenlyl the things he had learned? No.

Would he allow Ielenia to know for certain that he had extracted information from the Do'Urden boy? No.

But from the Do'Urden's mind Mivindep had seen and--he was certain--correctly guessed many events that were set in motion, that would affect his plans.

So the mercenary suspected, and was quite correct in the assumption that Kenlyl would soon be attacked. Mivindep also knew that the mercenary, Dinin Do'Urden had no idea just who was going to attack Kenlyl, or that Kenlyl was already planning to move its forces to battle.

Mivindep knew. Mivindep knew all.

The child would soon have to be abandoned, Mivindep could not take her with him. If she survived the destruction of Kenlyl, he would return to reclaim her in time. She nearly knew enough to begin advancing on her own, only one lesson remained.

_Do not be late for you next lesson, it will be critical._ He warned her.

_Never master._ Takira responded.

* * *

Dinin sat up and rubbed his head, he wanted to go after the wizard but he moved out of the room with an unearthly grace that brought many insults to Dinin's mind, none of them made it to his mouth.

The girl patted his hand to get his attention and said, "You should sit down."

Dinin nodded once, and sat down in a rather comfortable chair.

Comfortable compared to what he was used to anyway, really it was not much, but likely the best Ielenia, a lower priestess and third in her family, had.

He kicked his feet up on another chair and said, "That wizard is going to get on my nerves soon."

"But he is not a . . . oh never mind." The girl sighed.

It occurred to Dinin that he had never really bothered to ask his daughter what she was called. He was not sure why, but he felt as if he really should. So he said in a kindly, fatherly voice, "What does your mother call you, little one?"

The girl's eyes brightened, they really were quite striking. Dinin wondered how the boys could dislike her, "You mean my name," she said softly, "I have many names. Takira Kenlyl is my birth name, but no one ever calls me that."

"Takira is it? Well what are you called by others?" Dinin asked.

Takira looked at the ground and whispered, "The matron calls me Tainted One . . . Elder Princess Menla calls me Child of Unclean Blood . . . and my mother," The girl smiled mischievously, "she calls me her _Sarol._"


	8. The Master

**Chapter IV  
****Part II**

Dinin licked his lips. The girl was called _Sarol,_ the drow word for weapon.

Ielenia had referred to her _sarol_¸ the secret weapon of house Kenlyl, but could it really be Takira?

And if it was, why the prejudice from the matron and her eldest daughter? _Tainted blood indeed_, Dinin thought angrily. He was a noble of a house higher in rank than Kenlyl was ever likely to be, any blood taint came from the Kenlyl!

Though it was a little confusing it also made sense, it answered some questions Dinin had had. Of course this was why Ielenia had not cut through Takira to get the assassin, this was why such a young child would be the wizard's assistant . . .

But why? What could be so powerful about her? What had the crystal been for?

Wizardly blood was rare in females, but hardly a devastating weapon. A crystal Dinin could see as being dangerous, he had heard talk of powerful magical crystals before, infused with the souls of murderers and innocents.

No, she could not be. He smiled at her, "Very amusing little one."

She shrugged as if it did not matter whether or not he had fallen for her joke.

Had it been a joke? He supposed if he could think of some way to trick Ielenia into giving away some sign as to the child's significance . . . but he should not discount the idea that the child was being used as bait to lure him away from the real weapon.

It _had_ to be something else . . . Dinin thought of Mivindep, Takira had said the wizard was not what he seemed . . .

What did that mean?

Dinin was still thinking when Ielenia barged into the room, "You are still here. I suppose you want a reward?"

Dinin scoffed, He put a hand on his sword's hilt to show Ielenia that he still had it.

The priestess seemed not to notice, she said, "A reward you shall have, Dinin Do'Urden, or shall I call you Zidan, minor servant of house Kenlyl?"

"Call me what you will." Dinin shrugged.

"Very well then Zidan, minor servant of house Kenlyl. Take your sword and prepare yourself for battle."

"Battle?" Dinin asked.

"You have some skill at riding lizards, do you not? You will accompany myself and the Kenlyl cavalry."

"On what mission?" Dinin asked.

"A minor servant needn't be informed. Simply prepare yourself, we ride within the hour."

Dinin shrugged, a minor servant, well he supposed it was a start.

He said to Ielenia, "I am prepared for battle as I am."

"Then get to the stables." Ielenia suggested. "I shall see you there . . . if you truly are trustworthy that is."

Dinin smiled. Him trustworthy? Oh no.

But he'd be there.

One of the lower level Bregan D'aerthe infiltrators would be the one to take what Dinin had learned to Jarlaxle, though he would have to leave out the nonsense about Takira, he was not sure he could trust it as any more than a child's joke.

"I do not know the way to the stable, perhaps the child could guide me?"

"She is my daughter, Zidan oh minor servant, and therefore above you. Guide you like some goblin slave? I think not. Besides," Ielenia said, turning to Takira, "The Matron Mother wishes to see you once more before the battle, I will not be going with you so you might as well set off now, she may reward you for being early."

The girl seemed to shrink significantly, "Must I?" she asked.

"Yes." Her mother said firmly.

"Why will you not be with me?" The girl whispered only just loud enough for Dinin to hear.

"Why should the Matron Mother want to see a commoner?" Dinin asked, unable to help a cocky grin as he added, "Especially one she claims has 'tainted' blood?"

Ielenia's eyes widened, she drew back her hand as if she meant to strike Takira but instead spun around and slapped Dinin.

"Our Matron Mother may say what she pleases, and her reasons for seeing a worthless whelp such as this one are her own." Ielenia said, looking at the child with searching eyes, but Takira just looked at the floor dejectedly, more bothered it seemed because of her impending meeting with her grandmother than by her mother's stare.

"Will you take the crystal?" Ielenia asked her daughter after a long silence.

"No, it will not be ready for three days . . . four if the Matron Mother demands I appear before her now."

Ielenia nodded, and put a hand on her daughter's shoulder, "Remember that her displeasure spells your doom. I pray Lolth will watch over you."

The girl gave her mother one of her betrayed looks and quickly set off through the door. Ielenia glared at Dinin, "Who told you she was tainted?"

"She did." Dinin shrugged.

"And do you know what that means?" Ielenia asked.

"I have a guess." Dinin sneered.

Ielenia smiled back at him, "You would be wrong, Dinin of no house worth mentioning. Quite wrong."

* * *

Pharn felt a dark shadow enter the room, quickly he leapt to his feet, away from the luxury that rightfully belonged to his master.

And the Master _had_ returned.

He was of average height for a drow, his face was average, his hair was an average length, but organized and well trimmed. He wore average robes and Pharn's magic sensing eyes could see no truly powerful magical signatures emanating from him. Of course there were the normal things one might expect to see on a drow commoner, an enchanted dagger near his hip and a faintly glowing ring.

All of it a ruse, or perhaps something else, for Pharn knew his master was an incredibly powerful Wizard.

The Wizard Retanet--it was not his true name, Pharn did not know his true name--claimed to have once been a master of the Academy, and from what he had seen Pharn believed it. Retanet seemed to cut through the natural spell resistance of most drow with even the simplest spells. Had once brushed aside a fire ball as if it had been nothing. Had eagerly taken a lightning bolt to the chest, and not been injured.

Oh there was a powerful magic about the Wizard, even if Pharn could not see it.

He'd find out what it was . . . and he'd make it his own.

But for now he was the servant. "My lord," he said, "How can I serve you?"

"The houses I proposed alliances to. Have they responded well?"

"Yes my master, eight houses have agreed to join us in this endeavor, Kenlyl has only just sent word that they have agreed to go along with us. My servant Elkantar is still working on obtaining mercenaries, and believes that Bregan D'aerthe can be persuaded." Pharn shifted uncomfortably, hoping that a reward would be in order, for it was for the knowledge that Retanet possessed that Pharn served him more than anything else.

Knowledge of that thing called The Shadow Weave.

Retanet assured him that it, and the blessings of the Lady of Loss were the keys to his power, and Pharn wanted to understand that power, wield it if he could.

Retanet sometimes rewarded him with tidbits of information, snippets of his notes, the tiniest hint that might help Pharn understand how he too might become powerful.

"When the Mistress of the Night rules all of Menzoberranzan, _she_ will give you what you seek." Retanet said suddenly, as if he'd read Pharn's mind.

The wizard rubbed his hands together in greedy joy, "Oh our Lady of Loss will rule soon, your plan is in effect, the pieces are coming into place, soon we shall strike!"

"Good. Send work to your servants, and have them send word to theirs, our Mistress of the Night has spoken to me and she desires that we move now. You know what to do."

Pharn was taken aback, "O-of course!" He said. "But what of Bregan D'aerthe?"

"They hardly matter. Numbers will not win this battle."

Pharn nodded, and bowed low. "Yes master. It shall be done."

Retanet nodded, and said nothing more. He simply disappeared as he had come, without a word, without a sound, simply fading into the shadows.

Pharn shifted uneasily, the final conflict was upon him already? Was it truly time now to strike for the Lady of Loss? With her unwitting army the goddess whose true name Pharn did not even know planned to . . . well Pharn shook his head. "Carry on. Carry on." He told himself. The two females, mistakenly believing he was speaking to them attempted to return to feeding him rare fruits and massaging his shoulders.

Pharn thought it a shame. He'd forgotten they were there. Now they might have heard too much.

Oh well. He would just have to remedy that. He reached into his sleeve and drew forth a wand.

His master could afford new servants.

* * *

"I do not believe one in your position has much choice, nor will you receive a better offer." Jarlaxle said.

Enialis scoffed, "What alternative do I have?" He asked.

"Well . . . there is _one_ other. Shall I help you explore it?" The mercenary leader asked.

He did not have to pick up a knife, did not have to put his hand on the hilt of a sword, still Enialis knew what that other option was and knew that the other drow had just threatened his life.

He was in the presence of a master, and in truth quite grateful for the opportunity. For decades he had avoided Bregan D'aerthe for reasons that remained his own, and once his business with them was completed tonight he would have to be extra careful to avoid falling into their grasp again.

However Jarlaxle had class, he was the sort of drow that Enialis might have been willing to follow if he did not so enjoy his own freedom.

Enialis nodded once to Jarlaxle and gave him a genuine bow, "I will serve Bregan D'aerthe this once, in exchange for my freedom. I will carry your orders, and carry them out."

Jarlaxle put his boots up on the table and tipped his hat slightly over his eyes, not covering them completely but hiding them from Enialis' view. "Very good. You are dismissed."

Enialis bowed low then left the room, amazed that he had not only been apprehended by, but had spoken to, and contracted by _the _Jarlaxle.

For many aspiring young assassins it would have been a dream come true, but for Enialis it was a nightmare made real.

One of his skill and situation could not evade Bregan D'aerthe forever, few tried. Enialis had hoped that in serving the ridiculous wizard Pharn he might remain hidden a while longer, but instead it was what led him right to Jarlaxle's band.

The assassin sighed as he was blindfolded and taken from the place of his interrogation. He considered the nobility emblem on his neck.

Perhaps it was time to return home?


	9. The Cult

**Chapter V  
Beliefs**

Matron Kenlyl sat reclined on a lavish couch, her elder daughters standing near her giving varying reports.

She raised a hand to silence them when her tainted grand child entered the room.

The tainted one bowed low before her, the Matron smiled darkly and said "You are late."

The girl looked confused, the Matron knew she'd probably come with all speed, but unfortunately for her Matron Kenlyl could say that dark was light and in her compound no one could argue and live.

A dark pleasure that the old drow would enjoy until the day of her death, she was quite sure.

She waved her hand, "Never mind. You are forgiven this once you filthy little mongrel."

"What do want with _this _one, Matron Mother?" Menla scoffed.

"I have no need to explain myself to you, daughter." Matron Kenlyl said. "I plan to witness the battle myself. It will be glorious. However if things should go badly I will need a body guard."

The girl looked dumbfounded, Menla sneered and said, "Yes, someone worthless not to be missed when they are gone."

"Yes." The Matron said with a dark smile, "Ielenia puts too much faith in her weapon. Weapons are meant to kill, let this one finally fulfill her purpose." Matron Kenlyl looked to all her daughters, and her grand daughter. "In success we will be greatly rewarded. To fail is to die. Therefore let us _all_ fight, even the least of us, for if we fail we shall _all_ die."

There was an excited chorus of "Praise Lolth!", Matron Kenlyl watched Takira closely, the child did not join the chorus, did not even pretend to speak the spider queen's praise.

Matron Kenlyl would need her grand child tonight, when they returned however she would let Menla handle the discipline that Ielenia was clearly neglecting.

As if reading her mother's mind, the eldest Kenlyl priestess gripped tightly the handle of her whip and licked her lips eagerly.

The child's expression hardened and she said, "Well if I am to be your body guard, Matron Mother, would I not need a weapon?"

"A weapon in need of a weapon?" Menla cackled wickedly, "How redundant!"

The matron laughed along with her daughter, she shook her head at her grand daughter, "The odds of you needing to defend yourself with a weapon are slim, relax young one and know that you will come as my guest to witness a great spectacle. Praise be to Lolth this night."

"Praise Lolth!" everyone but Ielenia's tainted daughter cried.

The Matron of Kenlyl sat back in her throne. This tainted creature, this freakish little mutant truly had been a gift from Lolth to raise Kenlyl to a rank it more properly deserved . . . so how was it that she would never praise her deliciously dark deity?

* * *

Dinin, sitting atop his borrowed mount watched Ielenia carefully for any sign as to what the sudden attack was all about. 

The lesser priestess checked her mount and her gear, she had equipped herself with a spear rather than a lance, put two hand crossbows in holsters where they could be easily reached, and then got on.

"Zidan," Ielenia snapped at him, "You will not leave my sight on the battlefield, and you will not speak to that wizard again . . . in fact, no one ever will."

Dinin blinked, she knew that he'd contacted another member of Bregan D'aerthe?

"Do not assume that my sight lies only in front of me." Ielenia added, and steered her mount out of the stables.

Dinin frowned. He supposed it _was_ silly of him to assume that she would not have him watched. But to be caught in the act was not something a Began D'aerthe lieutenant was used to, and not something that Jarlaxle thought too highly of.

Excitement and curiosity drove him onward. It might not be too late to contact another member of Bregan D'aerthe, especially if one of them happened to be with the cavalry. He began to look out for familiar faces.

---

Retanet smiled.

The shadow mage stood on the balcony of one of his several hideouts, from here he could see the empty streets of Menzoberranzan. The drow knew that war was in the air tonight. A war the likes of which would not likely be seen again.

Eight houses. _Eight_. They had all answered his call, not a single one had rejected him, the Lady of Loss had guided him well.

He spread his arms wide, absorbing what passed for night in Menzoberranzan. He called out at the top of his lungs praise to his goddess, and prayed "Give your unwitting servants the strength to succeed, give your willing servants the power they will need. Tonight let Menzoberranzan become yours, all mighty Shar!"

"Shar!" the cry went through the hooded assembly of wizards that had joined Retanet's little rebellion. All of them, like Pharn, hoping for some secret of the Shadow Weave.

For that they were happy to overthrow Menzoberranzan's first house, risk the fates of the houses they represented--whether or not they were part of the rebellion.

The all assumed that they were the entire rebellion gathered together, it was not true. Retanet had not come to Menzoberranzan alone to build resistance, but rather he had come with four others, one of which would continue to teach and draw new members to the church of Shar even if the attack failed, two others of which had their own league of wizards, and the other, the fourth and final confederate had already infiltrated Baenre with an elite group of prestigious Shadow Dancers, who would wreak havoc in the Baenre complex as the gate was attacked.

They would cause confusion giving the other mages time to stop the powerful gates around the complex and allow the true pawns, the warriors of Menzoberranzan to invade their own first house and with the continued aid of the cult bring an end to Baenre.

If Menzoberranzan had a heart, it could arguably be the academy. But if it had a heard, as most snakes do, it was inarguably the Baenre Matron, so old that no one could even remember her name.

Retanet intended to sever that head and rip the unsavory parts of the body apart quickly.

Lolth would soon have no prized city of darkness.

After all, all things of darkness were Shar's by right.

It would all begin tonight, and Retanet swore that within a tenday Shar would rule all of Menzoberranzan.

If she chose to gift this gaggle of foolish wizards with the Shadow Weave so be it. If not all it would take, Retanet knew, were more hints and of course some clever talking on his part.

He smiled at his fellows, the willing servants of Shar, "The battle will begin shortly, prepare yourselves to change the very face of this city in the name of the Mistress of Night."

"Shar!" they shouted again, and as one the black hooded figures departed for the Baenre complex.

* * *

Enialis was reclined on a roof top, invisible to the unaided eye he watched as the soldiers of House H'mal marched through the streets of Menzoberranzan as if performing a silent parade of shadows. 

Enialis shook his head, this was a moderately ranked house geared up for war, a hundred lizard riders, perhaps two hundred foot soldiers, hundreds of varying fighting slaves, and a group of wizards the priestesses marching towards their intended target.

But wherever was that?

Enialis noticed a large, muscular princess, and a massively fat wizard. The wizard he knew as Elkantar, the H'mal house wizard. He did not look very happy to be riding along with the other House officers, but the female seemed eager.

Enialis wondered where they might be going, who could have lost the spider queen's favor this night? No matter, he continued on through the darkness of Menzoberranzan until he spotted another troop, this one was a little smaller than the H'mal, though there were almost twice as many slaves, and two wizards wearing black robes, these two had their hoods drawn, unlike Elkantar. They were headed off in the same direction as H'mal had been.

Enialis would have loved to find out what the final destination was, but Jarlaxle had been clear, his time was not his own until _after_ he delivered and then helped to carry out the mercenary's orders.

Yet . . . Jarlaxle was not here, and if Enialis was still being followed after all he'd done to shake pursuit he'd just have to make something up to explain his actions, or kill them, whichever seemed easier at the time.

He followed the new house, knowing it was probably none of his business, but curious none-the-less. He decided that the Kenlyl could wait, and so could Jarlaxle's orders.

* * *

Dinin gave an impressed whistle when he saw two other house armies approaching Kenlyl from the left and the right. 

Ielenia gave him a very stern look, _Find a _silent _way to be impressed, lesser servant._ She said in the drow hand code.

Dinin nodded and gave her a sarcastic look as he signed _Apologies priestess_. Ielenia shook her head and rolled her eyes, Dinin signed to her _are these two groups our targets?_

_If they were, would they we not be engaging us right now? They are our allies . . . I suspect._

Dinin smirked, _Suspect?_ He asked.

Ielenia frowned, "The Matron . . . she never told me whom we would be attacking, though Menla, leading the foot soldiers over there knows. She did say that we would be joined by other houses in the attack, so . . ."

_Find a _silent _way to be confused, oh great and powerful priestess_. Dinin signed casually, Ielenia scowled.

_You will see, when this is all over I _will _be great and powerful; _you _will still be a houseless rogue . . . unless of course you were to truly pledge yourself to Kenlyl. We have no warriors as powerful as a Melee Magthere Master in our ranks, you could easily be promoted to weapon master in a decade or sooner._ The Kenlyl princess signed.

Dinin scoffed, she would just _love_ that. Forcing him to obey her every word because to fail to do so would be suicide, even as a House Weapon Master he would be under her in stature and under her heel.

He, who had once been the elder boy of the eighth house of Menzoberranzan, become the lackey of the . . . what was Kenlyl these days, twenty seventh? Oh no, not him. It was hard enough to force himself to serve Jarlaxle. At least the mercenary captain, despite his incredibly flawed sense of fashion, had power enough to earn Dinin's respect.

But he smiled pleasantly at Ielenia and signed, _Can it be that you do not want to see me go? It _has _been a long time since we—_Ielenia drew one of her stowed hand crossbows and pointed it as his head.

_Go on,_ she said with her other hand, _Finish that comment._

Dinin sighed; it was a shame that Ielenia was too good of a rider to fall off just then. That would have made his evening.


	10. The Attack

**Chapter V  
Part II**

To Rivian all seemed quiet in the Baenre compound, and why not?

The only houses out of Lolth's favor were too far away for the guard to get a good show if anything should happen, and everyone knew no house, no two houses would dare attack House Baenre. The Matron might be shriveled and old, but she was powerful and enjoyed Lolth's favor more prominently than any other.

So it came as a surprise when suddenly strong hands took him from behind, and a dagger slid over his throat.

* * *

Stepping out of shadow itself Demou praised his dark goddess. They had caught the Lolthites off guard. He drew his twin scimitars and rushed for the first enemy. He lunged towards the guard who fell to her knees and planted her spear in the ground to meet his charge, he leapt into the shadows and emerged behind the foolish female.

With speed rather than force he slashed the back of her neck, not bothering to sever it, a simple kill would be enough.

He leapt for his next foe, a pair of his brothers joined him as they quickly dispatched more of the guards. A black cloaked Shadow Adept emerged and began to cast a spell to ask Shar to exercise her own power to open the gate. Demou made eye contact with one of the two following him, then his eyes darted towards the Adept.

His fellow Dancer understood and stopped, bolted in the other direction and began to dance death to any who approached the casting mage.

Demou laughed in his head as he slew two more drow guards who seemed confused as to why so many of their companions were suddenly dying.

The Shadow Dancers were not invisible, but they were fast, _confused brothers? Let Lolth answer your questions in the abyss!_ Demou thought as he leapt again, now up onto the wall and quickly struck out at the two guards.

Each jerked as a scimitar slid through his ribs, puncturing his heart, and both fell dead.

His scimitars yearned for true battle, for a foe worthy of his prowess. However this was not a battle for glory--except the glory of Shar--this was a surgical strike, eliminate the guards in the area and open the gates for their allies.

That was all Demou was needed for, once that was done he was free to seek out any foe he wished, perhaps even the Baenre weapon master, he had heard that Dantarg had speed beyond anything anyone had ever witnessed.

Superior to Demou's own? The Shadow Dancer doubted it. Others were now summoning shadows to aid in holding off enemy reinforcements, Demou did not. The loss of a summoned shadow would only diminish him, and it would not be necessary. The Baenre soldiers were soft.

He noticed one of the guards was still alive, he stepped on the wound in the unfortunate drow's back and spat on him. "Where is your goddess now?" Demou asked him in a low voice.

* * *

Dinin's eyes widened as the Baenre complex came into view. He looked at Ielenia, _Are you mad?_ He signed.

_It was not my idea._ Ielenia signed back, her face seemed full of awe, _But_ _if it is Lolth's will . . . we will carry it out_.

Suddenly, to Dinin's surprise the gate jerked, and slowly began to open, he braced himself for battle, "Here they come, they will sweep out and destroy us all!" He said, seeing no point in further stealth.

"No, look!" Ielenia said, pointing to the gates where to Dinin's utter surprise black figures were fighting the Baenre guards.

Someone was already inside the compound, and they had opened the gates!

"Charge!" No less than eight individual voices screamed to their respective houses.

Dinin felt a shudder go through his body.  
Could this be real?

House _Baenre_ was going to fall under attack?

"You heard them!" Ielenia shouted to her cavalry, though she sounded unsure, "At-attack!" She drew her rapier and rode, beyond all reason Dinin followed.

* * *

Vierna Do'Urden felt a shudder run through the temple, she looked to Sos'Umptu, "What was that?"

Sos'Umptu frowned, "I do not know, but it-" the Baenre princess was cut off as the doors to the chapel flew open and a group of uninvited males barged in. Sos'Umptu's frown became a scowl of rage, "How dare you enter the Dark Mother's most sacred chapel!"

A black cloaked figure spread his arms wide and laughed, "Then let the Spider Bitch do something about it! Can she call herself greater than the power that backs us?" The wizard laughed and thrust his arm forward, Sos'Umptu's guards flew back and slammed into the far wall, though the princess did not even stagger, she only drew forth her snake headed whip with a certainty that Vierna had never before witnessed in the normally quiet, and seemingly cowardly high priestess.

Vierna was by her side in an instant, together they would defend Lolth's temple.

And perhaps in doing so Vierna would again find the Spider Queen's favor.

* * *

Dinin rushed forward, cut through a Baenre soldier and just rode on.

"Secure the barracks first, slow their flow of reinforcements!" Dinin roared.

"I am in command—" Ielenia began but Dinin cut her off.

"If you wish to live through this victorious then listen to me! In fact, if you wish to simply live through this listen to me!" Dinin said, not caring if she listened or not.

He had fought more battles than she had, had defended and attacked more times than she had, had commanded greater numbers than she, he knew how to win a battle.

Slaves from both sides flooded the field, and were felled by both sides. No one cared whether the minotaur they slew was a servant of House Baenre, or not. Dinin doubted a single slave would survive the struggle.

He spotted a group of Baenre soldiers charging towards them, he moved his lizard towards them and made for a wall that would allow him to cut down on their heads from relative safety.

He reached it, and cut down on the head of their leader, a large and rather beautiful female who now, without the upper left quarter of her head, was significantly less attractive.

The soldiers who had been following her made to attack Dinin, but the Academy Master knew better than to remain in the same place for too long, he moved along the wall, stabbing and cutting down on the enemy, slaying three and injuring twice that number before a spear finally slammed through the neck of his mount!

The lizard fell and Dinin's hand moved from the reins to the dagger he carried in his boot, which he used like lightning to cut himself out of the strap that kept him in the saddle.

When the Lizard hit the ground--crushing the drow with the spear--Dinin Do'Urden rolled out of the saddle and came up sword in one hand, dagger in another.

The Baenre soldiers did not hesitate, they charged for the first boy with a fury that Dinin did not feel was entirely justified.

Dinin lunged forward, ducking to avoid a blow that would have taken his head. He swept out with his sword, cutting down one opponent and wounding another, he parried a spear thrust with his dagger.

Dinin had been taught to fight with two weapons by Zaknafein, but it was not his specialty. He did not prefer it as Zaknafein and Drizzt had, so he had no qualms about losing his second weapon when he threw his dagger, and watched as it buried itself in the neck of what had looked like a priestess.

Dinin gripped his sword with both hands and struck out again, dodging blows as best he could before dropping down to the ground and sweeping the legs out from two drow while striking out and catching a third in the stomach, a fourth jabbed down at him but missed.

Instead of getting up Dinin rolled to avoid the soldier's second strike, then rose--standing atop of the soldier he'd skewered--only to find the fourth soldier clutching a gaping wound in his chest just below his throat, Dinin looked up to see another lizard and its rider on the wall where he had been.

Ielenia had never been such a welcome sight sitting atop her lizard, the bloody tip of her lance explaining where the soldier's injury had come from. Her lizard seemed able to leap and dodge away from enemy blades with a skill that put every lizard Dinin had ever ridden to shame. Ielenia herself seemed perfectly content to let her mount look to its own self preservation as she fought, her lance striking down any enemy foolish enough to try to reach her. Crossbow bolts snapped off the wall as they failed to hit the constantly, and seemingly randomly moving mount.

Dinin turned back on the crowd and struck again, taking the head from a Baenre soldier.

Then, with steps that sent tremors through the ground an abnormally large Minotaur split the crowd and the enemy drow backed away as it rushed towards Dinin, who threw himself to the left side to avoid certain death!

The monster slammed into the wall with such force that it shook Ielenia, who dropped her lance.

The beast took it and threw it at Dinin with one hand, still holding its greataxe in the other.

Dinin crouched to avoid the projectile, as well as to get himself into an attacking position, he sprang forward with a mighty shout and cut at the Minotaur's wrist, causing him to drop his axe!

It gurgled as one of Ielenia's crossbow bolts found itself a comfortable home in the monster's neck. The next struck into its bloodshot eye, and as it fell Dinin nimbly leapt out of the way then slammed his sword into the back of the monstrosity's neck, killing it.

The Baenre soldiers shifted uneasily but seemed just about to charge again when friendly reinforcements, led by two of the black clad shadow fighters fell upon them, a living shadow between them seemed to be cutting a path through the Baenre warriors as well.

Dinin checked himself for injuries and found—not surprisingly—that he _had_ suffered a few. They were mostly small cuts and bruises, he'd survive.

Ielenia came down and said something to her mount which caused it to flee, she attached both hand crossbows to her belt, and drew her rapier.

"You were better off on the lizard." Dinin spat.

"You could not follow me on the lizard!" Ielenia shot back, "You are not to leave my side, remember?"

Dinin scoffed. But he realized it _would_ have been easy for him to slip in with the ranks of some other house and escape Ielenia in the initial surge, clever of her to keep an eye on him, he supposed.

"Very well. I suppose you could not ask for a better body guard than a former master of the academy." Dinin said, retrieving his dagger from the throat of what was indeed a former priestess.

"Or," A familiar voice said, appearing out of thin air, "a master assassin?"

Dinin struck out towards the assassin, but he drew both his swords, both long and short in a flash, and locked blades with both Dinin and Ielenia.

"Stop!" He hissed, "I am Enialis, and I come to you both with a message from Jarlaxle!"


	11. The Betrayal

**Chapter VI  
****Labyrinth of Shadows**

Sos'Umptu felt blood trickle down her forehead as she pulled herself up from the shattered pew. The Shadow Adept stood upon _her_ dais, in front of _her_ alter to the Spider Queen and summoned forth his allies who flooded the room, slaughtering worshipers and warriors alike.

Sos'Umptu Baenre struck up a prayer to her goddess and was answered, she thrust her palm towards the Shadow Adept, and seven bolts of darkness shot towards him!

He staggered, though they did not seem to bother him too greatly, Sos'Umptu did not wait to see whether or not the attack had truly hurt her opponent. She sprang forward and struck out with her whip!

Vierna was there too, a pair of light maces in her hands the other high priestess slammed one of them into the small of the wizard's back as Sos'Umptu's three headed whip struck, one head latching onto the wizard's neck, another his shoulder, the third his cheek!

The dark drow fell to the ground dead, Sos'Umptu felt rather pleased with herself until she realized this had been nothing more than an illusion.

Evidence that this was a powerful foe, Sos'Umptu realized. "A shadow double!" She hissed to Vierna, but it seemed the former princess was already aware of that. She levitated with a speed Sos'Umptu had never before witnessed up towards the shape shifting statue of which House Baenre was so very proud.

A swarm of magic missiles flew from the statue towards the former Do'Urden princess, slamming into her chest, but she kept rising towards the statue until she was close enough to grab hold and climb up, now Sos'Umptu noticed the Shadow Adept grip a staff firmly with both hands and attempt to ward of the enraged Vierna's flurry of blows quite unsuccessfully.

He fell from the spider statue, slowing the fall with levitation, suggesting that he might have noble blood.

It didn't matter to Sos'Umptu. Noble and commoner, they were the same in death and what more did those who desecrated Lolth's temple deserve? She cast her spell again, and her seven bolts of darkness crushed the drow mages' body, ripping through him and leaving a bloody mass floating in the air just beneath the shifting statue until its levitation wore off.

Sos'Umptu nodded to Vierna, who leapt down from the statue, landing on the body and using it to leap onto the sacrificial alter. Like a cocky young male, the priestess spun her twin light maces in her hands before rushing into the throng of enemy warriors, though Sos'Umptu would not grudge her the bravado.

Sos'Umptu herself, by no means a warrior charged all the same. She met with an enemy fighter, he struck out for her heart and she only barely managed to dodge out of the way in time. She thrust her hand forward and gripped his arm, spontaneously casting a spell of infliction and causing the warrior to fall back writhing in pain where a loyal Baenre soldier finished him off by slamming his sword down into the drow's chest.

Death to all who dared to desecrate Lolth's holiest of temples!

* * *

Matron Kenlyl smiled snidely at the representatives of the other seven houses involved in the conspiracy as the mercenary captain bowed before _her_ instead of them.

Jarlaxle stood before her with a troop of fighters fully prepared for war, though he had come with the bulbous wizard Elkantar.

But what did the charming rogue want? She had no doubt that had the mercenary wanted her dead, she certainly would be. Even with her daughter's beloved but merely budding weapon standing besides her, though the girl's eyes were not downcast as usual. Instead she looked bravely at Jarlaxle, her violet eyes unwavering, she stood ready to die for her Matron if necessary, just as a good tool should.

Kenlyl decided she might have to reward Ielenia if they both survived this evening, the child knew her place in the familial structure, if not the religious one.

Other leaders might have had a "no nonsense" expression as they spoke to her, but Jarlaxle seemed calm, relaxed, even friendly. "Dear lady," He said, "It surprises me that you would fight alongside the grunts. You are, I believe, the only Matron Mother here?"

"It would seem that way. But why should I hide? I had to see this through for myself. Is it not an easy task to recognize all eight houses in this alliance now?" She asked the others, laughing freely along with the first born daughters who had come to represent their mothers. Yes here in this command post a noble and recognizable representative from each House had come, as the Dark Ones had demanded, and as Matron Kenlyl had hoped.

This was the time and place where the grand alliance would reveal itself to itself, reveal which houses were involved.

Matron Kenlyl smiled, and Jarlaxle winked at her, he wore the eye patch over his right eye today. "You know what to do now." She said.

Jarlaxle showed her a rather cocky grin. He looked over his shoulder to his troops, and yawned, "Kill them."

The mercenaries, about thirty in number surged forward, cutting into several unsuspecting nobles, some of them still laughing dumbly.

Matron Kenlyl shoved Ielenia's child behind her and moved her hands about, a prayer to Lolth on her lips as she summoned a tiger.

The sleek surface feline was powerful, muscular and fiendish, a monstrosity and it hungered for the flesh of traitors. Matron Kenlyl sent it to do her bidding, and it did not hesitate.

The "command post" would be annihilated, and Kenlyl, lowest ranked among these eight houses would leap not only in rank, but in Lolth's esteem!

Just as she and Triel Baenre--who had visited House Kenlyl on her mother's behalf--had planned!

* * *

Jarlaxle watched as his mercenaries attacked, he blew on his whistle and nearly a hundred and fifty soldiers among the insurgents ranks suddenly defected and began to fight alongside house Baenre.

He chuckled to himself, he usually did not choose sides too early into a battle, but this one was so ridiculously one sided . . .

He had to wonder why Shar would allow her clergy to perform such a worthless act as an open, hurried and unintelligent insurrection using soldiers that did not share their faith and would too eagerly defect.

He supposed it was a delicious irony that while a handful of Shar's own might die tonight, hundreds of Lolth's faithful would fall. But such a game seemed more suited to the Spider Queen than the Mistress of Night.

As he pondered this the mercenary's hat was nearly blown away, which caused his eyes to narrow.

A blaze of flame lit up, engulfing his mercenaries even as they slaughtered the unsuspecting priestesses, and when the fire cleared there stood Elkantar H'mal, and his muscular niece Vidin H'mal.

"I shall deal with the princess, she is too much for a male like you." The Kenlyl Matron said.

Jarlaxle nodded. He did not agree, he could take them both, but why overexert himself?

He smiled and winked at Elkantar. He approached him as Kenlyl approached Vidin.

These two were all that were left of the insurgents' commanders.

He drew a dagger from his belt, "Ah, Elkantar, my _Khal'abbil_," Jarlaxle said with just a trace of sarcasm as he swept off his hat and bowed low, "Still alive I see."

"Your ruffians are not enough to destroy me, mercenary filth. You and your traitorous swine will not be tolerated in the Lady of Loss' brave new realm!" Elkantar roared and threw a bolt of lightning at Jarlaxle, which the mercenary dodged.

_Fool_ Jarlaxle thought, and threw his daggers, but Elkantar had a number of defenses upon himself, and four of Jarlaxle's daggers bounced off of the wizard as if hitting a force field, which, Jarlaxle supposed, they had.

The fifth however struck Elkantar in the shoulder, but failed to slow him as he began to cast another spell.

Now there was seven of the fat drow wizard. Jarlaxle sighed, and threw his five daggers again—for they had returned to him—this time dispelling four of the illusions and again, with the fifth striking the real Elkantar, though it bounced harmlessly off of his armored _piwafwi_.

He saw one of his mercenaries, a wizard lend him aid in form of a fire ball, the squad of Elkantar laughed and spread their arms wide, though three disappeared the true Elkantar was uninjured, "This ring," He boasted, "Makes me immune to your fire attacks, add that to the fact that you are a mere apprentice compared to me and you will find yourself nothing but dead!" Elkantar cackled and hurled a lightning bolt at the mercenary wizard.

It turned his once proud robed body into a crumpled up ball of burnt flesh and flaming robes.

A pity, but it had given Jarlaxle an idea. He began to move his legs quickly, racing as if he meant to take Elkantar from behind, as he did so he kept his eyes on the fat mage, and began to move his hands about in a ridiculous fashion, he shouted some words that might have been mistaken for a spell.

A good wizard would never have fallen for it, even under the stress Elkantar was under being surrounded and outmatched.

Luckily though perhaps Elkantar was a powerful wizard, he was not a good one.

Jarlaxle's spell took form, a flaming arrow which bolted towards Elkantar!

The fat drow spread his arms again, willingly accepting the blaze, "Fool!" He cried as Jarlaxle smiled, "No flames can hurt—ugh!" he was cut off in the middle of his sentence as the small fiery arrow slammed into his heart.

He looked down, his ring having dispelled or extinguished the fire, leaving for the fat and dying drow the sight of a beautifully crafted dagger.

A magical dagger enchanted to catch flame once the command word—easily slipped into a made up spell—was spoken.

Elkantar slumped and fell over, blood issuing from his mouth as he tried to mumble the words to a spell he would never finish.

Jarlaxle shrugged, "That is that." He said, going over to the wizard's corpse to retrieve his dagger, and Eleanor's ring. To the victor after all.

Matron Kenlyl however had not fared so well with her opponent. She was holding her side as blood flowed forth, staining her violet robes.

Vidin, and Kenlyl's granddaughter were nowhere to be seen.


	12. The Sister

**Chapter VI  
****Part II**

The assassin was forced back by Dinin's sword, the master lunged forward meaning to finish it all when he suddenly heard Jarlaxle's sharp whistle blow.

The sound that only members of Bregan D'aerthe could hear. He stopped, Ielenia lunged forward, her rapier seeking the heart of the assassin, but she was stopped quite easily by his two blades.

"Wait." Dinin said to Ielenia, and the assassin grinned.

"Jarlaxle sends word to you, princess of house Kenlyl, you are to act as if you were a member of Bregan D'aerthe for the duration of this battle, and follow the orders of his lieutenant. Your mother has agreed to this."

"What?" Ielenia demanded.

The assassin turned to Dinin now, "We are to infiltrate the Baenre compound and find the Matron Mother. You are under orders now to protect her."

Dinin nodded. How ridiculous, what kind of game was Jarlaxle playing? How had he guessed that Kenlyl would attack Baenre, Dinin had failed to send word to him.

Enialis said "We will need assistance if we want to find the Matron Mother."

Dinin smiled as a thought came to mind. "Very well. I have an idea."

He led them to the temple, where masses of rebel invaders were trying to overpower the defenders inside.

Dinin knew that the battle raged in there still, because of the constant cries to "bring up a wizard" and "send in the shadow dancers!"

When the Bregan D'aerthe soldiers mixed into the throng defected the battle became chaos, Dinin and his companions rushed through the crowd, slaying anyone who raised a sword against them, until they reached the entrance of the temple.

Dinin entered and found the floor was practically covered in blood, there were bodies everywhere, most of them drow with the odd battle slave here and there.

Dinin snapped his sword up and deflected a pair of light maces, he grinned as he looked into the lovely eyes of his beautiful sister.

"Vierna!" He cried, "Vierna it is me, Dinin!"

Vierna roared and tried to attack him again, but to Dinin deflecting her attacks was child's play. he was a sword master, she was just a priestess whose goddess would not hear her prayers.

"Sister," Dinin tried emphasizing their familial link, "Bregan D'aerthe supports house Baenre in this battle and _I am_ of Bregan D'aerthe!"

Vierna slowed, a high priestess whom Dinin recognized as one of Matron Baenre's daughters nodded to them and said "I _know_ it is true, Jarlaxle would not side against Baenre!"

She sounded a little too hopeful, Dinin decided she was lucky Jarlaxle had blown his whistle, or she'd be easy prey to any lie he might tell.

Ielenia, a lesser priestess said while averting her eyes from her superiors, "Bregan D'aerthe has come to aid in the defense of this compound, assassins have been sent to eliminate the Matron Mother, we have been ordered to protect her."

"Our own guard is sufficient!" Sos'Umptu said loudly but without conviction. She seemed unsure, shaken perhaps.

Indeed, from what Dinin remembered of Sos'Umptu she was a sheltered little book worm, a fanatical devotee to Lolth, but one without obvious ambition beyond simply enjoying life under her mother's protection. An actual attack on the compound must have been terrifying for her.

Dinin smiled at her and moved a bit closer. "We know, my comrade here has incorrectly stated our mission. We do not want to replace or supplement the elites that guard the Matron Mother, we wish to hunt down the assassins. We have this—" Dinin said, holding up his amulet, the insignia of house Do'Urden hidden by a brown leather pouch. It was magical and Sos'Umptu would sense that. But she would not likely be able to detect its true power. "This will tell us when we are within ten paces of them, for they will travel in the shadows. It will reveal them to us, but we must be within ten paces of them."

"I see . . ." Sos'Umptu said, taking a reluctant step backwards.

Or perhaps she was shy. Dinin flashed his perfect white teeth and said, "I'd much rather see to it that _you_ are kept safe through out this battle, and that our goddess's most sacred of places remains free of any further trouble, but I have my orders. If you would but take me to the Matron Mother however we could almost certainly find the assassins on the way."

"Well . . . I do not wish to leave the chapel unguarded." Sos'Umptu said.

"Let me take them!" Vierna growled, and Dinin did his best to hide the triumphant grin.

Vierna was playing right into his hands.

He would rather his guide be a priestess whose prayers Lolth would ignore, than one who held the spider queen's full favor.

Just incase the whistle blew again.

Sos'Umptu seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded, "There is nothing more you can do here, take them and help them slay these assassins!"

"Oh, but what of you?" Dinin pretended to object. "Surely it would be safer for you to accompany us. Your position here will be overrun all too soon!"

Sos'Umptu seemed shaken by that suggestion, but she shook her head and said, "Even if _we_ die, Baenre will survive so long as the Matron is protected. They will not put much effort into pursuing a lesser priestess and some mercenaries, but if I were to flee they would hunt us down with all their force."

_Yes, something like that. _Dinin thought, and pretended to be upset that Vierna would be leading them.

"Very well," Enialis said, looking out at the raging battle on the other side of the temple's doors, it seemed to be going well for the invaders, soon the Bregan D'aerthe force would either be defeated, or defect again to save their skins and leaving the chapel would again be impossible.

Vierna spun her twin maces in her hands, Dinin, not to be outdone by his sister did likewise with his sword, then gripped it firmly with both hands. "Let us cut our way out, my sister."

Vierna said not a word but went to work. her twin maces flashing as she pounded one, and then another enemy, Ielenia and Enialis were by her side in an instant, fighting furiously to keep up with Vierna.

Dinin believed that there was just a little bit of Drizzt in her. The Drizzt he had met in the tunnels not so long ago, the primal hunter that had nearly taken his life.

Oddly his fear of Vierna was minimal.

Suddenly he felt a strange urge, he knew where they needed to go.

He seemed to simply notice a large mound, and felt that he needed to be there.

He pointed to it and shouted to Vierna over the roar of battle, "There! We have to go there!"

"No, that is the dungeon, Matron Baenre will be in the palace!"

Dinin shook his head, "She's down there."

"How do you know?" Enialis demanded.

"Because that is where the assassins are." Ielenia said, looking to Dinin, "I feel it, we must go there."

Dinin nodded to her and the four companions began to cut a path towards the mound.

There were minotaur guarding it, and a shrinking cadre of Baenre guards. They were grateful it seemed when allies approached, and the female sergeant did not question Vierna when she snapped "We've business inside!"

* * *

Mivindep sat patiently in his sanctum. This was the very end, he could not see Takira again for some time, this would have to be their final lesson.

But the child was not in the compound. How could he have failed to anticipate the Matron's daft decision to take the girl with her into battle?

Of course the old witch would want to test her weapon.

Mivindep drummed his long fingers together as he thought of what he should do. He could sense his apprentice, she was in terrible danger.

Danger of course on multiple levels, she was in the midst of a battle and therefore the possibility of death was present, but far more pressing was her proximity to a being who would sense her and immediately recognize her for what she was.

Mivindep drummed his long fingers together. He would wait. He would see how things progressed.

He told himself he would not waste the energy or the effort in rescuing the child, but if she could save herself, if by her talents, or by her alleged taint she could come out of the battle alive he would know that their last lesson was unnecessary.

She would have learned all that she needed to know.

And Kenlyl's weapon would be closer then ever to the level of usefulness that Matron Kenlyl so desired.

Mivindep lowered his head and drummed his fingers together. It all depended on his apprentice now, for he would not remain in Menzoberranzan much longer.

He had other apprentices to look in upon, other weapons to refine.

* * *

Enialis shuddered as they rushed through the dungeons. Vierna seeming to know her way about, but Dinin and Ielenia were leading the group.

How they knew where they were going was beyond him, but they had yet to come across a dead end.

And they had yet to come across an enemy. Perhaps this _was_ a good place to wait out an invasion, after all the enemy's main goal would be the palace.

But it was not the habit of Matron Mothers to cower in holes when the enemy came, but to pray desperately in their chapels for forgiveness for their sins. Enialis was sure that Baenre would not do so since she was still in Lolth's favor, but would instead remain in her palace to order others about _because_ she held the Spider Queen's favor.

She would direct her troops personally because she would be pompous enough to believe herself more capable of doing so than her Weapons Master, and in the case of the elderly matron Baenre, Enialis was willing to concede that she might be correct.

It made no sense for the Matron Mother to hide and cower in her dungeons while the battle raged.

None the less he followed Dinin and Ielenia, if only because Jarlaxle had told him to keep an eye on his trusted lieutenant.

Of course in the end "keep and eye on" could be misinterpreted, and perhaps there would be an accident.

Perhaps Jarlaxle would be in need of a new trusted lieutenant.

Enialis did not want to join the mercenary band, but he also liked to keep his options open. Entering Bregan D'aerthe as a lieutenant would be preferable to being forced in as a rank and file foot soldier.

Enialis considered this as he followed Dinin of no house worth mentioning deeper and deeper into the Baenre dungeons.


	13. The Duel

**Chapter VII  
****The Chase**

Dinin raced down the corridors of the Baenre dungeon. _Odd_, he thought, _I feel as if the assassins are here . . . but why would Matron Baenre be here?_

Ielenia raced on after him, though Vierna was, in theory the only one who knew the way she was third in line, the assassin, Enialis moving at the rear.

"What makes you so sure that the matron mother is here?" Vierna demanded.

"The number of guards for such a minor location!" Ielenia snapped.

"This is no minor location, have you any idea the beings that inhabit this dungeon?" Vierna scoffed.

"The assassins are here." Dinin said firmly, but quietly as they ran on.

"We're making quite the ruckus are we not?" Enialis said, "Running about like headless vermin in a labyrinth we don't know the way through? What happens when the area stops looking familiar to the good high priestess?"

"I _know_ where we are going!" Ielenia shouted.

"Volume?" Enialis sighed.

"We're not close enough for them to hear us." Dinin said calmly, he put his hand on his sword's hilt–it was rather stupid to run around with one's sword drawn when it wasn't completely necessary.

He couldn't explain it, somehow he _knew_ something significant was here, and somehow he felt certain it was the assassins, not that he was even fully convinced that there _were _assassins, or how trustworthy _their_ assassin's word was.

He was suddenly reminded of the Kenlyl complex . . . he had _known_ to go down that corridor. He had been drawn there . . .

And now he was drawn into the dungeons.

Could this be the work of the wizard?

It didn't matter. If they found the assassins they would simply have to deal with them.

If there weren't he'd see what it was that the wizard wanted him to see here.

* * *

Mivindep stomped his foot, and then stared at it.

He _never_ stomped his foot! Never before.

A thin smile spread across Mivindep's equally thin lips.

Very well. He would acknowledge that he was concerned . . . no, that was not the word.

Anxious. Anxious to see his weapon perform, to see what his lessons had accomplished against a real foe, not some orc slave or pack of kobolds, but against a real opponent.

But that other . . . that one who would so easily detect the weapon . . . was near. Perhaps, had already detected it, was moving to claim it or destroy it . . . that Mivindep would not allow.

In that way . . . he would intervene. He prepared himself to visit the Baenre complex . . . and the Baenre dungeons.

* * *

Vidin H'mal ran with all possible speed, dragging in her wake the child from the battle before.

"We are being followed." One of the shadow warriors said, holding his hand out and halting Vidin and the rest of the party.

"Deal with them, whom ever they are!" Vidin hissed. "We must reach Matron Baenre, with her death this house falls!"

"With her death . . . Lolth falls." The shadow warrior smirked, Vidin blinked, what the blazes was _that_ supposed to mean?

He suddenly slunk back and disappeared.

The wizard, Pharn, whose spell was guiding them towards the Baenre matron–Vidin assumed this was possible because the Matron had lost Lolth's favor–shook his head slowly and whispered to Vidin, "Why do we have this worthless being? It is slowing us down."

"It is a female and therefore above you," Vidin hissed, "Furthermore I believe it will be useful." Vidin said. In reality she could not explain why she had taken the little brat along with her when she escaped from the Kenlyl matron . . . it had seemed like an irresistibly good idea at the time.

As if failing to take the child with her would be a fatal mistake.

Perhaps it was the fear of the moment, Vidin did not care. When this was over she'd sacrifice the girl to her spider queen, perhaps Lolth's hand was guiding her hand in sparing and taking along the child.

Perhaps she would be able to use the child as a living shield.

Vidin took a deep breath, "Let us continue . . . we have no time to waste."

The girl's violet eyes watched Vidin closely, the female scowled and slapped the child across the cheek, "Stare at something else wretch!" She hissed, and, grabbing the child's wrist again they ran down the corridors, guided by Pharn's spell.

* * *

Enialis rushed on at the rear of the troop, he kept his eyes on the others and a small portion of him wondered why they trusted him to fill the role of rear guard.

He also wondered what was driving Dinin and Ielenia, they simply seemed to know where they were going.

He clenched his fists as they ran, and then suddenly, on a reflex he drew his swords and twisted around, blocking one scimitar thrust, and then another.

He smirked, "Fun!" He laughed as he swept his swords out, sweeping the two scimitars aside, he leapt back as the enemy warrior rushed at him, his two scimitars a blur of movement!

Enialis scoffed at his foe, he struck out with his own swords, the four blades clashed again and again, faster than the fluttering of a small bird's wings in the night above.

Enialis struck and struck, was blocked, and was blocked. He was attacked and attacked, and deflected again and again.

He smiled darkly, a small part of him wondered where the others were. Had they gone on without him?

He didn't care, he was enjoying this fight, but he didn't want to get lost in the dungeons either.

His red eyes blazed as he met blows with the enemy fighter, he leapt backwards and crouched, his foe leapt forward towards him, and disappeared into the shadows.

Enialis had the strangest urge to throw himself to the left, instead he dropped low and raised his short sword into the air, the shadow dancer's scimitar slammed into the blade, his other scimitar sailed in for Enialis's back, but the assassin swept his leg out to the side, taking the shadow dancer's legs out from under him, Enialis rolled and came up, throwing himself back and down the corridor, he watched his foe carefully.

The shadow dancer rose to his feet and scowled, he lunged forward and their blades met again, it was like a fast paced song, the ring of adamantine blades.

Enialis was too evasive to succumb to any of the shadow dancer's sneak attacks, and wisely the dancer did not attempt to do so again. They were both very fast . . . but Enialis' victory was gripped tightly in his left hand.

Enialis' short sword, his primary weapon arced in, the shadow dancer blocked, Enialis grinned, closed his eyes and whispered an old elven word.

Even with his eyes closed he saw the brief white flash, he opened his eyes and was capable of seeing the staggering shadow dancer.

A truly skilled fighter could fight without his eyes, this one was no exception, he could hear his opponent.

Enialis however used the opportunity to slip his ring of invisibility over his finger, silently walk in behind his foe and strike for the vital spot!

He had things to do, places to be, fellow assassins to kill.

But to his surprise his final attack was blocked by the shadow dancer, his scimitar blocking the strike!

Enialis smirked, "So there is hope for you still."

The shadow dancer laughed, "My goddess will keep me safe, she does not favor gender over ability . . . like yours does."

Enialis laughed, "You assume too much." The assassin leapt forward, he threw his long sword over the shadow dancer's head, drew a dagger and threw that at the dancer's neck, rolled past the dancer and brought his short sword up to cut the drow up the middle.

The assassin raised his hand and caught his other sword as he came up, the shadow dancer leapt backwards, avoiding the short sword, but the dagger slammed into his back.

He screamed in pain, and Enialis' longs word took the shadow dancer's throat.

The assassin smirked and kicked the corpse, then turned back and saw the others had indeed left him behind. Well . . . he'd find them.

Right after he searched his nearly worthy foe's body for any trophies worth his trouble.


	14. The Illithid

**Chapter VII  
****Part II**

Dinin raced on, sword drawn, Ielenia and Vierna flanking him.

Vierna should have been leading, if there were some sanctum for the Baenre matron only Vierna would have any chance of knowing where it was, but somehow Dinin knew exactly where he was going.

"What of the assassin?" Ielenia asked suddenly.

"He does not matter now." Dinin said calmly.

"Concern for your comrade is misplaced, the Matron Mother is what matters!" Vierna hissed.

"It is not concern for his wellbeing, but for our own. If the assassin is dead then we have an enemy to our backs and many more to our fronts."

"None of that matters now." Dinin insisted.

"Why not?" Ielenia hissed.

"Because we are nearly upon them!" Dinin grinned.

"But-" Vierna began to speak up, likely wishing to ask how Dinin knew this but Dinin cut her off.

"Not another word dear sister, we are closing in!" Dinin's grin grew even more as he envisioned the look on Vierna's silenced face.

* * *

Triel smiled at the small table upon which a magical replica of the courtyard-and everyone in it-began to play out a rather different battle.

"It would seem our allies have turned." She said to her brother.

Gromph Baenre nodded, he could have lent a spell or two on the field, but there was no need now. Besides, Dantrag and Berg'inyon were ample enough force and noble representation.

Fighting now against Bregan D'aerthe, Baenre and Kenlyl forces the other insurrectionists had lost their numeric advantage, their command post had been annihilated, the battle would be over soon.

Gromph rubbed his hands together slowly and said "It would therefore seem that the crisis is over. The Matron Mother's prayers in the chapel were successful tonight."

"Do not be silly, brother," Triel smiled, "We did not lose Lolth's favor, these lesser houses were fools to attack us. Mother made no prayers tonight."

Gromph raised his eyebrows at this, "No prayers? But she was not on her throne . . . so where has she been this night?"

_In the dungeons with her Duk-Tak, _came a mental reply in Gromph's brilliant head.

The Archmage glowered as Methil, the mind flayer entered the room.

The slender if somewhat tall creature looked drow-like enough until you came to his bulbous head, and empty black eyes. The four long tentacles that covered the grotesque mouth.

Gromph turned his attention back to the table, "Then there was never any danger."

_Perhaps not . . . perhaps so._ The mind flayer projected its thoughts to Gromph.

Gromph's eyes narrowed, "There is something you are not telling us?" He asked.

_It will not concern you . . . and yet perhaps caution is called for . . ._

Gromph glared, "What are you talking about?"

_Come with me . . . to the dungeons. We will find your mother in the torture room._

Gromph could hardly suppress a smirk, "Which one?"

* * *

Takira shuddered, the priestess that had kidnapped her and injured her Matron suddenly shoved her to the ground, "They're upon us!" She screeched.

Takira spun around and saw her mother, rapier drawn coming for the strange priestess.

The priestess raised her buckler and stopped the fatal strike, and drew forth a light mace.

Two others came, Takira's father as well as another priestess who wielded two maces of her own. The three were out numbered and outmatched.

But Takira would change-the girl shuddered again, this time from the chill that ran down her spine, the small child turned to see the two figures slowly, but menacingly approaching them.

One was a drow wizard and she could _feel_ the power he had, the other . . .

The other was a creature that Takira Kenlyl had seen only in her worst nightmares, but it was a creature that she had seen before.

In her mind she had seen them, been told of them by her master Mivindep. She knew that this was a Mind Flayers.

The mental intrusion came swiftly, a soft voice in her mind.

_Hello,_ the mind flayer greeted her quietly,_ you are no Odran princess . . . and how very interesting that I should not detect you until now._

Takira shook now, she had often been afraid in her young life and had believed that she knew how to deal with fear . . . however here, before this monstrosity she was absolutely terrified. The tentacles began to wriggle excitedly.

"What is that child doing here? What is all this?" The wizard demanded. He paused as he received a mental answer from the mind flayer, and the shadow guild's wizard threw himself down at the drow's feet.

"I am a loyal servant of House Baenre, but _those _three are here to murder the Matron Mother!"

_He is lying._ The Mind Flayer broadcasted, and Takira could feel the gleefulness of the creature.

"I _know_ that." The drow wizard said with a chuckle, he then, without words or gestures formed a ball of fire in his hand, "Best just to kill them all, I suppose."

_No . . . not the child . . . it will be mine._ The Mind Flayer said softly.

Takira felt her chest getting tight, terror ran through her and she didn't know why. But she did not want this creature to take her anywhere . . . did not want those bony, claw-like hands to touch her, those tentacles, she determined, must not come near her!

She looked to her mother for some kind of guidance, but she was too busy fighting the shadow priestess.

Takira looked to her father . . . he was busily fighting a pair of the shadow dancers, and having a rather hard time of it.

She turned back to the flayer to find it slowly but steadily advancing on her, panic filled her and she screamed as she tried to back away.

"Run _Sarol_! Do not let it touch you!" Her mother commanded.

And she obeyed without hesitation.

_How far do you suppose you will get little one?_ The Mind Flayer asked her.

Takira didn't know. She just ran.

* * *

Vierna's twin maces spun out a dance of death, she struck out against her foe one time and then another, Dinin fought with two enemies of his own, but Vierna's main focus was on the wizard groveling before Gromph Baenre.

As the Archmage played with a delayed ball of fire, tossing it from one hand to the other he snidely questioned the groveling wizard.

"What houses hatched this plot against Baenre?"

"U-U-Untyl, Vy'dran, H'mal, Kenlyl," He went on to name nine different houses.

Vierna couldn't believe that. How could so many houses ally themselves against Baenre? Of course it would likely take that many houses in order for anyone to gather the courage to rise up against the first house, but in such a large number even a single defection would be disastrous.

And none of these houses were very high rank, not one of them in the single digits.

Vierna sped up her attacks, she looked to her brother . . . it was . . . strangely nostalgic to be fighting alongside Dinin.

His skill had improved somewhat since the fall, or at least since Vierna had last seen him fight.

Yes . . . the Do'Urden clan had always had exceptional blood.

Blood that should rule, not grovel and scrape and serve!

It was all clear to her then, as she fought alongside her darling brother . . . Lolth's will was for her to restore her house! To restore Do'Urden!

And she would . . . gladly. But first she would have to survive.

She struck out violently at one foe and though he raised his buckler to block her attack she brought her second mace up and slammed it into his shoulder.

She spun now and came up behind the young priestess who dueled with the Kenlyl princess, Vierna noted the dead snake headed whip.

And why should the whip respond to one who denied Lolth's will? Did the priestess even _know_ that her whip lay dormant at her side?

Vierna struck out with her hatred and her ambition, in the name of Lolth, in the name of Do'Urdern! She screamed as her mace slammed into the small of the enemy priestess's back, the priestess fell to her knees and Kenlyl slammed her rapier into the dying drow's chest.

Vierna however tore the whip from her hip. She no longer had one of her own, she had never recovered it from the fall of Do'Urden, had never been given another.

But now . . . she took the whip from the priestess whose name she did not know. She felt it come to life at her touch, she caressed one of the serpent heads as the dying drow gagged and reached up for the stolen whip.

Vierna smiled at her, "You want this?" She asked darkly, "then have it!" She screamed, and began to lash the priestess, speeding her along her road to death.

* * *

Ielenia took a step back, she looked away as the fallen princess savaged the drow whose whip she now called her own.

Vierna Do'Urden gave her chills.

The fight was not over, though Vierna Do'Urden seemed ignorant of that fact. Ielenia saw that though Dinin had downed one foe, one remained, and there was still the Archmage, playing with his ball of flame to be considered.

But far more important to her, was her daughter . . . and the Mind Flayer that had gone after her.

She did not fancy her chances against a Mind Flayer, not alone.

But there was no time to wait for Dinin . . . and she would rather keep her distance from Vierna.

So alone it was that Ielenia Kenlyl pursued Methil, the Mind Flayer.

* * *

Takira fell to the ground, she felt the Mind Blast and she knew what effect it should have had on her.

She feigned being stunned and lay on the ground.

She fished into her tattered robes for the tiny dagger that would be her only defense . . .

She closed her eyes tight and for the first time wondered if there was something to this whole _Lolth_ business.

But no . . . no she did not know enough about Lolth to dare ask her for anything. Better to survive this on her own.

She did her best not to tremble, not to shake as she fell under the creature's gaze, she tried to remain perfectly still.

_Oh do get up . . . you are fooling no one._ The mental command came.

It was . . . different somehow.

Takira, trembling looked up at the Mind Flayer, who stood behind her, tentacles wriggling in anticipation.

She drew forth her dagger and glared at it.

_That will not work . . . put it away child._ Came the amused command.

_Indeed, do not make this more difficult than it needs to be._ The Mind flayer whispered in her head.

She tensed and realized there were two of them, two voices in her mind.

She turned around to see the owner of the second, standing across from the Mind Flayer . . . was her master.

_I really did wish to avoid getting involved here, El Viddenvelp. _Her master sighed mentally, _But this one . . . she plays a rather important role in my future . . . I would not have gone to such lengths to hide her presence from you, and the sloppy, uneducated Odran if she were not important to me._

The Mind Flayer's tentacles wiggled even more excitedly, _Ah you are quite the power aren't you . . . you will be delectable._

Takira was shaking, "M-Master . . . I do not know what to-"

_You lack the power to face him, so never mind that. Only stay out of my way._

"Y-yes master." Takira whispered.

_Do you really think that a drow can compare to an Illithid?_ The Mind Flayer asked.

_Not at all. Few can compare, _Mivindep said as his ebony flesh melted away to a sickly lavender, his glowing red eyes became lifeless white orbs, he grew taller and his hair fell away revealing a bald, bulbous head, _and none can surpass . . . we Illithids._


	15. The Deal

**Chapter VIII  
****Dark Alliance**

_Do we have an agreement?_ Mivindep inquired.

El Viddenvelp's tentacles wiggled excitedly, _Yes, _came the mental reply, _I agree to your terms. Matron Baenre will be pleased as well._

_Splendid . . . this will benefit _us_ far more than her of course._ Mivindep would have smiled, but he lacked the necessary equipment, _Now . . . there is just one small matter._

_That is? _Viddenvelp asked.

Mivindep resumed his drow guise and finally grinned, he brought a wand forth from his robe, _The Kenlyl cannot know that we are not enemies . . . this may hurt._

_Indeed._ Viddenvelp mentally sighed. Mivindep cast his spell, little more than a light show, and his fellow flayer was laid flat.

Naturally it was only a lie . . . but with Ielenia Kenlyl approaching, and Mivindep's weapon now finally secured for himself there was no point in endangering his plans . . . he smiled at Takira with his drow face, "Do not worry little one . . . everything will be all right." _For me._ He thought to himself as the drow girl slowly nodded.

* * *

Ielenia could feel her daughter was nearby, the weapon called to her in her mind, she understood now that that was how she and Dinin had found the assassins, understood that it had been Takira. But what the child was doing with the assassins she did not know.

When she arrived upon the scene however she was thrown back as something slammed into her, and with no small degree of surprise she found it was the mind flayer!

She shoved it away, and spotted Mivindep standing over Takira, a wand in hand, his long white hair unkempt and Ielenia supposed he had just been through a truly trying battle with the Illithid.

She ran up to him, "What has happened?" She demanded, "Why are you here?"

Mivindep scowled, "I am here because that one," He said, pointing the want at the unconscious mind flayer, "discovered the girl. I could not allow it to inform the Baenre, or the Odran."

Ielenia felt a shudder of relief go through her, for a moment she had believed that Mivindep had been _with _the assassins.

Takira seemed truly shaken she scrambled on all fours for her mother and threw her arms around her, Ielenia was not sure what kind of reception her daughter had been expecting, but she gripped one of her arms and tore the child away from her, she raised a hand to strike the girl only to be stopped by Mivindep, his long claw like fingers holding her arm at bay.

"There is no need for that." He said in his annoyingly emotionless voice.

Ielenia glared at him, who was he to tell her how to deal with her property?

Ielenia glared at her child then, the filthy unclean little mongrel.

But that wasn't what she saw in the girl before her, she saw a small and frightened creature. For just a moment the child before her was not simple property, but a breathing, thinking and beautiful young girl, _her_ young girl.

She fell to her knees and embraced her. As tears came to her eyes she decided she would blame this outburst of unwanted emotion on Mivindep, he'd obviously charmed her, there was no other explanation for such . . . ridiculous behavior on her part.

"What were you doing here?" She asked her child.

"Before she maimed our matron the fat priestess said they were going to kill Baenre . . . so I made her take me with her so that I could call out to you and father so that you could find the assassins." The girl said, a blank expression on her face.

Ielenia sighed, "_Sarol_ . . . that was terribly careless, you could have died."

"No." The girl said flatly.

Ielenia licked her lips in annoyance, "Excuse me?"

"No, I could not have." The child clarified, "I . . . could have killed the priestess, mother. It was the Illithid that frightened me."

Ielenia smiled, and shook her head, "So you _are_ like your father. Cocky and ignorant. A pity."

"Your presence here is no longer necessary. Return to Kenlyl, priestess." Mivindep said coolly.

Ielenia scoffed, "Do not be silly, there is no way to . . ." She paused and glared at Mivindep, "How did you get here? This place should be well protected from teleportation spells!"

"Priestess I am in a relatively good mood, something that does not happen often these days . . . so I will forgive you."

"Forgive me? For what?" Ielenia demanded.

"For making two rather annoying assumptions. First, for assuming that I would _teleport_ into an unfamiliar place, second for believing that whatever defenses your precious first house may have in place would be enough to deny _me_." Mivindep's red eyes blazed.

Ielenia backed down, nodding, "Very well. I apologize." She said, wanting no further trouble this evening, but doubting very much that there was anything the first house could do that _wouldn't _deny Mivindep. After all, if he was truly that powerful why was Gromph Baenre the Archmage instead of him?

But Mivindep nodded, "Of course you do. Now take the child and go. I believe you will find the battle outside quite finished, your sister has survived and is rallying Kenlyl forces to her even now to return to your home and wait for the benefits to present themselves to you."

Ielenia didn't bother to ask Mivindep how he knew that . . . he always claimed to know everything, sometimes it seemed as if he truly did. She instead took her daughter's hand and said "Do you know the way _out_ of these dungeons?"

"No." The girl said flatly.

"I do. But we will need to retrieve its sire." Mivindep said.

Ielenia scoffed. So it would seem they would have to return to the Do'Urden siblings.

* * *

Dinin leaned against the wall, trying to avoid matching gazes with Gromph Baenre.

Vierna was standing in front of him, which helped to shield him from the Archmage's stare, though whether or not this was intentional was unknown to Dinin.

The fireball had been delayed far longer than Dinin would imagine possible, he was beginning to wonder if it truly was a fire ball at all.

The groveling wizard seemed to be thinking the same thing because he was no longer groveling with the same enthusiasm. He was now even starting to meekly request fair treatment.

He'd never get it of course, any drow would know that.

"I have learned much Archmage; from my time with these insurgents . . . allow me to teach you the things I have-"

"Teach me? Teach _me_?" Gromph laughed.

"No, no Archmage, I did not mean-"

"Tell me, before I order that mercenary to slay you, what possessed you fools to believe it could work?"

The wizard gulped, "We were deceived by false prophets."

"Sacrilege." Vierna hissed darkly.

Dinin raised his gaze from the ground to the back of his sister's head.

She'd said it before. She was a priestess of Lolth after all and she'd lived much of her life with the likes of their Brother Drizzt.

Why then did it bother him so much to hear her say it now?

He noticed, for the first time the very lively serpent whip in her hands.

For a moment he could not help but notice how like their eldest sister she seemed now. He and Vierna had always gotten along well enough, she had never viciously beaten him as Briza did and perhaps as a result he had fantasized about her death less often than any other member of the family.

Whether or not she had Lolth's favor was a mystery to Dinin, the snake headed whip should not function without the favor of Lolth, yet this one was functioning quite well.

It was however, not Vierna's whip, so perhaps it was only its true owner who enjoyed the spider queen's favor, Dinin didn't know how such things worked.

In truth he hardly cared, good for Vierna if she were to regain favor and begin carving a place for herself out amongst the Baenre.

It was not as if there was anything else for them in the world other than to carve a place out for themselves and try to survive. Dinin was noble, that would never change, but he _was_ being forced to live like a commoner, and it was difficult.

But he would carve a place for himself alongside Jarlaxle, perhaps in time he might even take the mercenary's place as head of Bregan D'aerthe.

They would survive, he decided. They would find a way to thrive if they could. Good for Vierna if she had found Lolth's favor.

It didn't affect him.

"Stand up." Gromph said suddenly, capturing Dinin's attention, still toying with his ball of flame. The drow wizard obeyed, his knees seeming somewhat wobbly.

Dinin supposed, judging by the look on his face that such power over another being thrilled and disgusted the Archmage. Perhaps disgusted him because this drow as a fellow practitioner of their arcane art, perhaps he was disappointed with him.

But the idea that he might let the drow live never crossed Dinin's mind. He knew the drow wizard was finished, would have been better off to fight.

The drow wizard however groveled and scraped, he begged and pleaded, and now as he stood before Gromph it seemed he felt confident that he would be spared, because he dared so speak without permission, "Thank you Archmage, thank you, I--"

"Silence." Gromph scoffed, holding his hand out, the ball of flame burning brightly in the darkness. "Take it."

The drow looked surprised, Dinin himself was rather surprised, but the wizard reached out and Gromph delicately placed the flames in his waiting palm.

"Wh-what am I to do with it Archmage?"

"Prove your loyalty to Lolth . . . eat it. If you are truly loyal to Lolth, if you repent your transgression in following these false prophets the flames will turn white and you will be consumed by a soothing, but harmless flame. If you have lied to me, if you are disloyal to Lolth you will be burned alive from the inside out."

The wizard was shaking, "I-I have been honest Archmage!"

"Then you've nothing to fear." Gromph said simply.

Dinin felt a strange eagerness come over him.

It was a lie of course, the flames would not sooth the drow wizard, they would burn him alive. The Archmage was forcing him to injure himself, perhaps even commit suicide. It was sadistic and great fun to watch.

It might have been different if Dinin were the one being forced to put a ball of fire in his mouth, but luckily he wasn't. It was this wizard's problem, not his. For him it was just entertainment.

The wizard brought the ball of flame close to his face, hands shaking, he opened his mouth just a bit and suddenly to Dinin's surprise the flames became white!

Dinin stared in awe and surprise at the ball of white fire dancing in the palm of the equally shocked drow wizard.

The wizard's expression became a cocky grin, and he threw the ball down his own throat without further hesitation.

"You see Archmage? I am loyal. I say . . . it _is _rather soothing, my thanks master Baenre."

"Indeed." Gromph Baenre said with a twisted smile. He held up three fingers. "Three." He said, retracting one finger.

"What is this?" The wizard questioned.

"Two." Gromph counted, retracting another finger.

The color drained from the drow's face, "A-Archmage? Archmage why do you-what are you doing?" He demanded, lunging forward. He reached out for Gromph's robes, but he did not make it.

With a blood curdling scream he began to claw at his own stomach, flames seemed to irrupt as his body disappeared, his robes caught fire, and he fell to the ground as his midsection simply ceased to be. Painfully slowly flame consumed his lower and upper body, leaving nothing behind, though his screams stopped when his chest was gone his eyes somehow managed to look about pleadingly as if there were somehow still life in him until they too were consumed.

And Dinin heard a bizarre sound.

Laughter.

Vierna was laughing, and with no small amount of alarm Dinin realized that he was too.

Was he laughing in fear? Could he be so afraid of the Archmage that he had subconsciously decided to laugh at the dire joke rather than risk offending the evil wizard by simply standing by stone-faced?

Of course it _was _rather amusing.

Vierna laughed freely at the dying wizard and kicked the ashes once the spell had run its course, Dinin laughed somewhat nervously and avoided meeting the Archmage's gaze.

"It is time to leave." The slender Mivindep said suddenly, appearing behind Dinin with Ielenia and Takira.

Dinin blinked and spun about, "What do you-"

"Come now, it is time to return to the compound. We will find the assassin not far off, come with me."

Dinin nodded, not about to argue in favor of remaining in the Archmage's presence. He bowed low to his sister, "Farewell then Vierna. May fortune and Lolth be with you."

Vierna smiled darkly at him, "Farewell brother. I do hope you can survive under Jarlaxle until such time as _I _stand in need of your services again."

For some reason Dinin felt a shudder run down his spine, he stood up straight and followed Ielenia, Mivindep and Takira down the corridor.

"We must leave this place now. There is much that I must do, you have taken up far too much of my time as it is. Your assassin friend is just down this corridor, princess Ielenia take point, for his sake, for if he raises a sword against me in ignorance he will be shown no mercy."

"Why not simply kill him? He serves no purpose for Kenlyl." Ielenia scoffed.

"He may serve a purpose for me." Mivindep said darkly. He turned and glanced over his shoulder at Dinin, "You too, may suit my needs."

Dinin scowled, Vierna and now Mivindep, all of a sudden everyone thought to make him their servant.

* * *

Gromph Baenre saw the odd wizard escort the mercenary and some lesser priestess out of the dungeon, he was about to command them to stop, for something upset his eyes about that wizard.

Gromph's eyes were enchanted to see through most any illusion and there was something absolutely strange about that wizard. Gromph could not quite put his finger on it, it was not something he had ever witnessed before, none the less it was not right.

However he heard the mental voice of Methil, _Hold, Archmage. Let them go. We must go to your mother and begin. There is a great deal of work to be done within the next three days._

"Three days?" Gromph questioned.

_Three days. For in three days time your mother must set the full fury and hell of Baenre upon house Kenlyl. She must spare no one._

"It sounds like an enjoyable experience. But what has that got to do with me?"

_You must help me convince her. Kenlyl is in Lolth's full favor. Their matron, if she survives, is also in your mother's personal favor, especially after their antics on this night. Nonetheless they must be attacked and eliminated down to the very last commoner, no quarter to their soldiers or young ones._

Gromph smiled, "It sounds like an enjoyable experience." He repeated. "Let us go see the Matron."

* * *

The wizard known as Retanet smiled as he stood near the exit of Menzoberranzan with one of his fellow followers of Shar.

"Sa'asre," The slender female asked, referring to Retanet by yet another alias, "I do not understand. How could the mistress of night miscalculate so fiercely? How could we have suffered such defeat?"

"Did we suffer defeat?" Retanet asked.

"I lost many of my shadow dancers, and Khelonin was killed shortly after he opened the gates. But to what gain? Menzoberranzan remains the home of the queen of spiders, the lady of loss has gained nothing."

"Nothing?" Retanet smiled.

"Nothing." The female nodded.

Retanet smiled at his younger companion. She was a skilled shadow dancer but she lacked real wisdom. "The Lady has lost little. Khelonin was a loyal and powerful worshipper it is true, but he was also old and nearing the end of his _natural _life. If he made preparations to cheat death I know not, but it would not surprise me. Your fellows were converts to the Lady, she gained much from them even in death, but most importantly of all, how many true followers of the Lady died tonight? Now how many of Lolth's have fallen? How many more will survive the chaos that follows? How many of them will be taken in by those of our brothers and sisters not leaving now?"

Retanet laughed softly, but without humor, "Lolth has lost much tonight and the losses to the spider queen will continue. Not all eight traitor houses will likely fall due to the repercussions of this failed assault, but most of them will. There will be homeless commoners, orphans in need of shelter and guidance that Shar is now there to provide. Our people are planting themselves in Menzoberranzan, they will not be removed."

"But why this? Why all of this just for that?" The female demanded.

"Why not? We are drow, chaos is our nature. The goddess herself may have had little to do with how this battle unfolded, or perhaps she had everything to do with it. But the battle was necessary, and we all foresaw its conclusion. I admit I did hope that we might truly topple Baenre and speed along the process. It however was nothing more than a distraction, Baenre will be busy mopping up the mess we have left them. Too busy to notice."

"Too busy to notice what, Sa'asre?" The female demanded.

"We were not the sort to build up a church to the lady, we are servants yes and we have prepared the foundation. However the actual formation of the lady's church is best left to the priests and priestesses. The ones that slipped into the city while all of Menzoberranzan's eyes were on the confrontation with Baenre, the ones who are even now continuing to trickle into the city and will continue to do so over the next few days as Baenre busies themselves taking the spoils of war from their lesser cousins. All at Lolth's loss."

The beautiful young female smiled, "I see I have much to learn of the goddess."

"Ours is a church of secrets, Danera, we all learn something new every day . . . but we are also drow, learn quickly or find yourself dead."

Danera nodded. "I wish I could remain to help."

"Your task in Menzoberranzan is done." Retanet said as their walk took them nearer to the point at which they would rendezvous with their comrades and begin their journey home after several long years in Menzoberranzan. "But you are young, and quite talented. Perhaps some day you will return to Menzoberranzan, and find it a city very much devoted to the Mistress of Night."


	16. The Proposal

**Chapter VIII  
****Part II**

"There is much to do now . . . I will be leaving Kenlyl tomorrow." Mivindep said calmly.

"What? But what about the weapon?" Ielenia demanded.

"Your weapon is ready. It can be used for lethal purposes now, but only on small groups. The sort of power and range I spoke of before will come to it in time, but only in time, and only so long as it taps into its strengths as I have taught it. It has learned much from this night alone, as have you. I need but a short while alone with it to fully finish its refining and then I will hand it over to your care on a more permanent basis. My work here is nearly done."

Ielenia was just a bit shaken, this was not what she had expected. Had her child's statement about being able to kill a priestess of Lolth been more than mere bravado?

She smiled, "Thank you Mivindep. But do you not mean that you will be handing the weapon's care over to my mother?"

"No." The wizard said flatly, shaking Ielenia more than a bit now.

"Are you mad? She will not be-"

"She had nothing to do with its creation, and she has shown a blatant disregard for its safety. She is not worthy of this gift, but I have looked inside you . . . you, and the Do'Urden are."

Ielenia shifted uneasily, speaking of Dinin . . . "How long before you will be finished with the weapon?"

"An hour, my lady." Mivindep said calmly, "If you need more time then give me five goblin slaves . . . you will not see them alive again."

"Why would I need more time? What do you think I will be doing as I wait for my weapon?" Ielenia demanded.

The annoyed expression on the drow wizard's face said plainly that, yes, he truly did know everything, including Ielenia's intentions, she waved a hand and said "I can see you truly want the slaves though, so you shall have them. Anything else?"

"I will need you." Mivindep said.

"Me?" Ielenia coughed, but Mivindep was not looking at her.

"What do you need with me?" Enialis sighed.

"Before you and Do'Urden report to your master, I will need to see the both of you. First you, he I must see after the weapon has been finished.

Enialis shrugged, "Very well. But if you attempt anything I will--"

"You will try." Mivindep said with a smile. He and the child, and the assassin departed down the hall, leaving Ielenia and Dinin alone.

"Well then," Ielenia said, "Since you've a long wait before Mivindep will see you-"

"Made longer by you." Dinin scoffed.

"Indeed. None the less I suggest we pass the time by celebrating our survival and life in general." The priestess said.

"There are less ridiculous ways to ask, you know." Dinin smirked.

"I am not accustomed to _asking_." Ielenia shrugged.

"Yet you ask now." The mercenary stated.

"I do. You have earned that much respect at least." Ielenia shrugged.

Dinin seemed to consider it for a moment, before finally saying "Very well. Perhaps Lolth will even bless you with another weapon."

Ielenia scoffed, "_That_ is highly unlikely. And even if another bastard _should_ come about from this one encounter, it will not compare to my _Sarol_."

Dinin just smirked, "You have just admitted to me that Takira is your _Sarol_."

Ielenia shrugged, "So I have. As if you harbored any doubt by now. But enough of that, we have more pressing matters to attend to."

"More pressing?"

"Time is of the essence, we have less than two hours." Ielenia said.

Dinin looked surprised, "How long were you expecting this to take?"

Ielenia did now answer him, she simply set off down the corridor.

And after a brief moment of hesitation Dinin Do'Urden followed.

* * *

Enialis leaned against the wall of the wizard's lair. The child whom he had threatened sat in the center of the sanctum, kneeling in quiet prayer or meditation.

The goblins were playing a game of some sort in a nearby corner, it involved a goblet, likely stolen from the kitchens, and several bones. They shook the goblet until a bone fell out, then cheered.

Lesser beings proving how inferior they truly were, Enialis decided. He sighed and said to the wizard, "It has been nearly an hour, yet the child still prays. When do you begin refining this weapon?"

"She is not praying, why should she waste her time with such a ridiculous pursuit? No she is training, she is learning. I am telling her everything she needs to know and she is growing stronger by the minute."

"And what do you need me for?" Enialis demanded.

"Many things . . . first and foremost, this child. Extraordinary in almost every way. Quite beautiful, is she not?"

"Perhaps . . . in a few years when she has grown somewhat." Enialis rolled his eyes.

"No she is beautiful now. Perhaps not in the carnal way that you expect, I behold this child and I see the most beautiful thing in this world. Do you know what that is?"

"Do enlighten me." Enialis yawned.

"She is _power._"

"She looks malnourished and a bit short to me." Enialis said.

The wizard laughed, it was not a pleasant, or amused laugh. "You continue to view her in a carnal way."

"Not at all. Those with power simply tend to be better fed." Enialis shrugged.

"An interesting jest." Mivindep said calmly, "Be that as it may however this girl is worth much to me. She could be worth much to you as well."

Enialis raised an eyebrow at that. He was through joking with the wizard, he knew a financial matter when one presented itself. "Really? And just how much might she be worth to me?"

"You need not become her guardian, however if you were to ensure her safety and survival until she comes of age I would be willing to pay you handsomely. Let us say . . . a dragon's hoard?"

"Indeed?" Enialis laughed, "And the dragon would be . . ." He knew this game. Offer a drow a dragon's hoard and leave out mention of the dragon that still lived to claim ownership of it. Enialis did not know how well he would fare against a dragon, nor was he foolish enough to want to find out.

"There will be no dragon, only the hoard. It would be yours. Simply see to it that she survives to adulthood."

Enialis shrugged, "Very well. I can look in on her from time to time. I am curious, how will you know whether or not I have anything to do with her survival?"

"Because if she dies, I will kill you as well." Mivindep said calmly, "besides which I know _everything,_ there is nothing that you can hide from me, if you are completely uninvolved in her survival I shall know it, and any attempt to claim your reward will be dealt with harshly."

Enialis smiled, keeping an eye on this brat would be annoying, but the reward would be worth it. "Very well then. I believe we have an agreement."

"As I knew we would." Mivindep said. "You need not fear any double cross, I am a being of honor."

"Indeed. Now . . . how much longer will this take?"

"We will be finished shortly. The time has come to put to use the goblins."

"Put to use?"

Mivindep raised his hand and beckoned one of the goblins in their own coarse language.

He barked some orders at it, it looked confused until he said something that sounded threatening.

The goblin then clenched its fists and charged for the child, blood lust in its eyes, and a war scream on its lips.

Enialis reacted without thinking, he let a dagger fly, it slammed into the goblin's neck and the slave fell to the ground dead.

"Do not do that again." Mivindep said calmly. "They are part of the refining."

"Is that so? Well then, if I were a drow who knew _everything_ I would have known that the assassin standing next to me would not take kindly to a lesser being charging at the child he has just been charged with protecting, and inform him before I beckoned to it, that he should not intervene."

The drow wizard only smiled, "Do not fault me for your inadequacies, it should have been an easy task to determine my intention with the goblin, having told you of the child's importance surely you could have guessed that she was in no true danger."

"A drow who truly knows _everything_ would have known that that would not be the case." Enialis said simply.

"Even a drow who knows very little would likely know not to anger one who can end their existence with but a thought."

"Indeed. Some might suspect however, that a drow who knows very little would not comprehend his own mortality, and would believe he could take the thinker down before the thought was completed."

"Perhaps. Whatever the case, the thinker needs the fool for the time being. Mind you once our business together is completed your so-called "wit" may well earn you decades of pain. But perhaps when we meet again it will no longer exist."

"One can only hope." Enialis nodded. "Well . . . do not let me hinder you, do go on with the refining."

"It is done." Mivindep said calmly, gesturing over to the place where the other goblin slaves had continued their game, ignoring their fallen companion.

They were all lying face down, unconscious or perhaps dead.

Enialis smiled, all without his notice . . . perhaps the girl was worth keeping an eye on after all.

* * *

"You know it would be a shame if you were to leave." Ielenia said suddenly.

Dinin laughed.

"Oh be silent! I did not mean it because of . . . well I did not mean it the way you believe!" The priestess snapped as she pulled her boots back on.

Dinin just kept laughing. "You cannot bare to see me leave?" He asked once he'd brought it under control. "Yes I remember I used to have that effect on you before."

"Do not be stupid! Before it was only talk, but now it is good sense. You could have a place in Kenlyl. You are a former master of Melee-Magthere. We have no one in our ranks close to your caliber. After the battle tonight we will need a weapons master truly worthy of the title."

"Ah, truly become a servant of Kenlyl." Dinin laughed, but without humor.

"You are being ignorant on purpose." Ielenia accused, "You can become Dinin Kenlyl . . . I would gladly take a house weapons master as my consort." Ielenia said, and Dinin smirked. Ielenia quickly held up a hand, "It has nothing to do with what we have just done!"

"Being your consort would not grant me the last name or the rights of nobility, you're the last in line for the throne of a lesser house." Dinin said.

"Lesser than what? The household you call your own is dead, but Kenlyl is not. Join us, join _me, _Dinin. Kenlyl will leap in rank once the other conspirators are dealt with, and I have no intention of remaining last in line forever."

Dinin looked at Ielenia, sitting on her bed watching him in turn.

It would mean an end to his life as a mercenary . . . a return to the life of a noble. It may well take a century or more for Ielenia to seize control and for Kenlyl to rise to the glory that Do'Urden had been enjoying at its end . . . but he was young, he would survive that century.

And as house patron and weapons master his status would be above what it had been in Do'Urden. The fact that Kenlyl truly did have no one of his caliber would mean that Ielenia would have to be a fool to stab him in the back without first finding someone better, and Dinin would need only to see to it that she never did.

He could just accept her offer . . . live a life of relative comfort.

No more Bregan D'aerthe, no more Jarlaxle, no more infiltrations or other such missions, and all he had to do was continue spending his days in the Kenlyl compound, and his nights in Ielenia's arms.

Hardly a poor offer . . . he folded his arms. "One does not simply walk away from Bregan D'aerthe."

"And why not? Jarlaxle could then call Kenlyl his allies, and I would buy your freedom from him if it came to that."

"I am not a slave." Dinin said.

"Then why not walk away from them and come to me, to Kenlyl?" Ielenia shouted.

"Because I am a houseless rogue with no rights!" Dinin shouted back, the fact that he could finally admit it aloud shook him, "I could die tomorrow and no one would know or care!"

"That is not true! I--that is--Takira. Takira would care I am sure." Ielenia said softly. She clenched her fist and then through clenched teeth grumbled, "I . . . I would as well."

Dinin smirked at the pain that admission seemed to cause Ielenia. "You are only saying that to sway my decision."

"Even if I were, would it not be worth it to live with the lie?" Ielenia asked.

Dinin closed his eyes. Maybe it would not be so bad to become patron over a household . . . to have more children with Ielenia . . . was he ready to stop being Dinin Do'Urden?

Did Dinin Kenlyl sound right to him?

If he were to do this he would do it for his own sake, not for Ielenia, and not for Takira. Was this what _he _wanted for _himself_.

What else was he waiting for? For Jarlaxle to step down as head of Bregan D'aerthe? For Matron Malice to suddenly rise up from the rubble of their home, her grave and apologize for the whole "fall of Do'Urden" incident?

Could he really expect such an offer to come his way again?

He clenched a fist at his side, "Do you truly believe we can overpower your mother and sisters?"

"My mother is old, how much longer can she live? My sisters are fools, and we _do _know a talented assassin do we not? Think Dinin . . .you and me . . . and do not forget the _Sarol._ The three of us can remake Kenlyl and take it to heights my mother merely dreamed of. After tonight I believe you and I can do anything."

Dinin took a deep steadying breath, "What makes Takira so important?"

Ielenia smiled, "I will tell you . . . if you agree to join with me. Servitude would be but a temporary thing. You know you need me as much as I need you, together we can show all Menzoberranzan what true ambition is!"

Dinin smiled weakly . . . he always had been ambitious.

* * *

Later Dinin frowned as Jarlaxle slapped him on the shoulder, "Job well done."

"And on that note," Enialis spoke up.

"Your payment, of course." Jarlaxle said with a bizarre twinkle in his eye, "You know you really are quite talented . . . there is a place for you in Bregan D'aerthe, but I know you will refuse it."

"You truly are as wise as they say." Enialis smirked.

"Why?" Dinin asked. "Is it not difficult to live alone?"

"Surely." Enialis answered, "But without my freedom I have nothing to live _for_. I fought for my independence and I have not grown tired of it."

"I will not force you to accept my generous offer, nor will I trod upon you unless you get in my way again." Jarlaxle smiled, "But I wonder . . . how would you like to perform one last task for me? The pay would be twice what you've just received."

Enialis frowned, "What is the task?"

Jarlaxle smiled broadly, "Why, assassination of course. The assassination of a target you know rather well."

Enialis looked at Dinin, "I am afraid I've grown quite fond of him. Of course if you were to offer me four times this amount I believe you would find I am far more fond of wealth." He said.

Dinin scowled and drew his sword, Jarlaxle just laughed and shook his head, "No not Dinin, he is of great use to me."

"Then who?" Enialis asked.

* * *

Ielenia licked her lips and folded her arms. Menla stood in front of the matron's throne, addressing their mother. "It was glorious, even your wizard Mivindep could not resist indulging in battle."

"He came only to retrieve the weapon." Ielenia snapped, "The one that _you_ put in danger."

The matron raised her eyebrows, "I beg your pardon? It is _my_ weapon, and I will do with it as I see fit."

Ielenia shook her head, she licked her lips again-she would have to stop doing that, it was too obvious of trait-and said "It-she is _my_ weapon! Without me you would never have possessed it, not one of Menla's worthless little mongrels has this power, not one other child in the entire household has this power, and it is because of _me _that Kenlyl possesses it!"

The matron smiled, "Calm yourself child. I have no intention of denying you your rightful praise for this battle, you led a small group after assassins meant for Matron Baenre, and she conveys her appreciation."

"We are not discussing praise, we are discussing _my_ _Sarol._" Ielenia scoffed, forcing herself not to lick her lips, she was extremely nervous now but didn't want it to show. "You endangered our weapon, worse from what Mivindep tells me by moving the _Sarol _away from him he was unable to mask its presence for the briefest of moments before he arrived on the scene, who knows who might have sensed it?"

The matron smiled, "Do you imply that I was not within my rights as matron mother to do with my assets as I would?"

"I imply that the child is _my _asset, not yours, not Menla's. I could very well take her away and join with another house."

"You have gone mad!" Menla gasped, "You must have!"

Ielenia smirked, "I may be the youngest Menla, but I have achieved more in these past few days than you have achieved in your past few decades! The weapon is _mine_, without me you have no weapon, you are no better than the houses that peer at you waiting for your moment of weakness."

"Your weapon is still too weak to be that great of an asset to Kenlyl, my child." The matron said with a smile, "But I am pleased to see you maturing in this manner. It pleases Lolth as well."

"I _know_ what pleases Lolth, my matron, I _am_ a priestess."

"You are a cavalier." Menla scoffed.

"I once put the duties of a warrior above the duties of a priestess it is true," Ielenia admitted, "But no more. I am a priestess of Lolth first and foremost."

"As it should be." The Matron smiled, "Very well my daughter . . . we shall say that the weapon is your own, but it is therefore your own responsibility, should anything happen to it, or if it should cause any trouble to me . . . I will pluck out your eyes so that you may never again look at me with such defiance. I will cut out your tongue so that you may never again speak to me in such a manner. I will cut off your hands so that you may never again raise your beloved sword. Do we understand one another?"

Ielenia bowed low, "Yes matron."

"Why not do all of that now? The little whelp!" Menla demanded.

"Because eyes, tongue and hands are all necessary for a high priestess, and I sense a powerful high priestess in your sister. Perhaps one day Menla, it will be she who claims the title of Matron Mother of Kenlyl."

Menla glared, but Ielenia was energized.

So her mother was pleased. Ielenia herself was rather fond of this new spine she'd just grown.

She had come far in the last few days, she had learned so much on her brief adventure . . . with proper time to reflect and study she was certain the things she had learned would allow her to reach a new height in Lolth's favor.

Her future had never seemed brighter.

For that moment Ielenia was happy.

But her moment was brought to an all too sudden end when the doors of the chapel burst open, and a lesser priestess screamed, "We are under attack!"

At first Ielenia's happiness prevailed, she would show these fools the truth of their folly, show them her power and grow even stronger from the battle.

But that enthusiasm, as well has her happiness disappeared when the priestess answered Menla's question of "Who dares?"

"Baenre! It is Baenre!" The priestess cried.

**A/N:** Mivindep did not forget or fail to speak to Dinin, what he said however is revealed in a later chapter.


	17. The Fall

**Chapter IX  
****The Fall of Kenlyl**

Vierna Do'Urden could feel Lolth's favor just at the tips of her fingers, ever so slightly out of reach.

She was close, but she needed something to come closer still.

Punishing the traitorous Kenlyl would do.

Bregan D'aerthe fought alongside and amongst them, as well as amongst the Kenlyl.

Vierna did not have Lolth's favor and so she was to serve as a minor field officer.

She stood at the rear lines, besides the weapons master and eight elite guards. "It is beginning." Dantrag Baenre said needlessly.

The fact that the battle was beginning was all too evident when the fireballs began to shoot towards the walls of the Kenlyl compound.

Baenre was using this as an opportunity to show off their might. They had either destroyed or secretly absorbed the other traitorous houses over the past three days, an easy task when one simply "allows" the entire ruling council to contribute to the cause.

Even so Baenre could have done it alone.

Now they stood poised to attack Kenlyl, to wipe the house off the face of Menzoberranzan.

She smiled as the Kenlyl's feeble defenses began to rise up. They had to know how hopeless it was. "They will surrender before too long." Vierna commented.

"They may." Dantrag said. "It will not matter."

Vierna raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"We are not to accept any surrender. Not one of them is to be allowed to live. We are to execute them down to the last child."

Vierna folded her arms, "Well then in that case we are in for some amusement even after they surrender. I cannot wait to see the looks on their faces once they realize there will be no quarter."

"Little moments that make life worth living." Dantrag agreed as the Baenre slaves charged forward.

* * *

Ielenia stood atop the walls of the Kenlyl complex.

How?

Why?

Kenlyl was in Lolth's favor._ She_ was in Lolth's favor!

Well it was hardly any wonder that Dinin had never given her a proper answer to her offer. Jarlaxle must have told him of Kenlyl's fate, certainly the blasted mercenary had made the obvious and correct decision.

Survival was the best most drow could hope for after all. It was also the best Ielenia could hope for tonight.

If she could just survive . . . if she could get away . . . there was hope.

She looked at the enemy masses as they began to charge for the gates. She wondered if he was out there among them.

She turned back towards the stables, she saw her daughter waiting for her there.

"Get to the mount." Ielenia commanded.

"What do you plan to-"

"Get to the mount!" Ielenia shouted.

"I can help, I can-" Takira pleaded.

Ielenia grabbed her daughter by the arm and dragged her into the stables, "No. Kenlyl's survival relies on our survival, do you understand? As long as you and I survive we can rebuild Kenlyl, everything is going to be all right."

"You are not thinking clearly, even if we survive what future can there be for us if the entire household is destroyed? I _can _help!" Takira cried.

Ielenia climbed aboard her mount and offered her hand to her daughter, "Come _Sarol. _I will not see you dead here."

The girl wiped tears from her eyes, "They will kill everyone. I can feel it, there is not going to be any mercy. We have to fight for our own future! Even if you are the last Kenlyl princess you cannot become Matron Mother if there is no house to be Matron _of_!"

"I know, _Sarol._ Get on the lizard." Ielenia said calmly.

"What do you hope to accomplish?" Takira demanded.

"Get on the lizard _Sarol._" Ielenia repeated. "Lolth will preserve us, I have her favor."

Takira was shaking as Ielenia reached out and pulled her onto the lizard's back. "You . . . are certain?"

"I am certain."

"Then how _can _they attack us? Lolth should be protecting us! Where is Lolth? Where is the Spider Queen now that we need her?"

Ielenia was surprised by her own smile, "It is not your place to question the goddess. that is sacrilege." She said, tying a rope around her waist and her daughter's.

The small drow child sat stomach to stomach with Ielenia, Takira's small hands clutched fistfuls of her mother's _piwafwi_ as Ielenia raised an arm to signal her guard to move out.

"Why? Why are they doing this to us? We have Lolth's favor and we aided them in a moment of crisis. Why are they doing this to us?"

Ielenia held her daughter tightly, "We must live _Sarol_, so that we may find out the answers."

Takira wept into her mother's robes as Ielenia herself held back tears she had not known she would possess.

Her world, the only world she had ever known was ending. And just when it seemed about to get so much better.

* * *

"I must confess," Sos'Umptu said, "I do not understand why."

Her mother smiled, her ancient wrinkled face twisted the expression into something grotesque and hideous. "What do you not understand?"

"They aided us, and they have Lolth's favor. They sided with the rebels at _our_ bidding, there is no reason for this battle to proceed."

"Methil has informed me of a very good reason." Matron Baenre said calmly. "It is the very reason that we have several Odran priestesses with us this evening."

Sos'Umptu however was not calm as she looked at Gromph's depiction of the battlefield.

The full fury of Baenre's army was arrayed before the puny forces of Kenlyl, as well as detachments from the third house, Obladra.

It was certainly not a matter of fair play, and Sos'Umptu did not care about that. But she did have concerns regarding this decision to blatantly ignore Lolth's will.

It did not seem real, "Matron we cannot attack them while they have Lolth's favor." Sos'Umptu dared to say.

"And so we shall not." Matron Baenre smiled directly at her daughter, forcing Sos'Umptu to suppress a shudder.

"But the attack has begun!" Sos'Umptu cried.

"Nonsense. Our wizards' spells are falling short of the actual compound and merely damaging the land around the walls. The slaves are attacking, but only because we could not restrain them . . . the Spider Queen will understand."

Sos'Umptu shook her head, "Matron we-"

"Enough child. We will not attack until after they have lost Lolth's favor." Matron Baenre said soothingly.

Sos'Umptu shook her head, "How can you know that they shall lose it?"

"Because the Spider Queen herself has told me. Lolth wishes to see the Kenlyl annihilated, it is her will."

Sos'Umptu stared at the battlefield, the slaves were swarming over the Kenlyl like ants to a beetle, there were thousands of them.

Sos'Umptu found herself fighting to keep from turning away from the grizzly scene, "Lolth's will be done." She said.

Her mother would understand Lolth's will far better than she of course . . . she supposed.

Matron Baenre's twisted smile grew, "Any moment now . . . they move even now to anger the Spider Queen."

Menla glared at her mother.

The old crone! She had obviously failed in some way.

Menla gripped her snake headed whip, "The Spider Queen has turned her back on us."

"Silence!" The Kenlyl Matron screamed, "This is a mistake! This must be a mistake!"

"No, there is no mistake!" Menla laughed, "They come now. It has already begun, and there is no turning back once battle is joined. They will try to kill us all, but if we can regain Lolth's favor . . . well."

Menla's sister appeared on the right side of their mother's throne, and Menla's oldest daughter appeared to the left.

Menla tightened her grip on her whip. "We must make a sacrifice in order to regain Lolth's favor."

Matron Kenlyl scowled, "Is that so? You believe yourself up to the task, child?"

"Oh I am not a child any longer you old crone!" Menla cackled, "I am a High Priestess of Lolth, and soon to be a Matron Mother of a noble house."

Matron Kenlyl sprang up from her throne, her hands swept from her belt in a blur, Menla's sister fell back with a scream clutching a bleeding face, cut by the sword in their mother's right hand.

Menla's daughter was pulled towards the Matron by the snake headed whip in the Matron's left hand. Fangs sank deep into the youth's face and chest, they pulled her screaming, closer to her grandmother, whose sword slammed into the girl's stomach.

Menla screamed in rage not at the loss of her daughter, but at the fact that clearly she would have to get her hands dirtier than she had expected. She lashed out with her whip, her mother abandoned her sword in the younger priestess's body and rolled to the right side to avoid the strike.

Menla screamed to her sister, "Get her! Do not let her escape!"

"I cannot see!" The Kenlyl princess screamed, clutching her bloodied face.

Their mother came to her feet, eyes locked on Menla.

Menla scowled, "Time for you to die mother. I shall not miss you."

The Matron rushed forward, and Menla drew her hand crossbow, she fired and the bolt struck her mother in the neck.

She tumbled to the ground, paralyzed.

Menla laughed maniacally as she rolled her mother onto her back, she wanted the old crone to stare at the statue of Lolth in their chapel, stare at it as her heart was given to it.

Menla took a dagger from its hiding place in her boot, she then went to work carving her mother's heart from her chest.

Menla tore the organ free and showed it to her already dead mother. Laughing still she threw the useless organ to the ground, "Sleep in the arms of glorious Lolth tonight, mother."

"M-Menla? Menla my eyes!" Her sister pleaded.

Menla cursed. Well she would need every pair of hands available for the defense of _her _house. She knelt in front of her blinded sister and began to cast the spell that would cure the injury and restore her sister's sight.

Nothing happened.

The whisper in her mind that she had come to know as Lolth, was gone.

Menla knelt there dumbfounded trying to understand _why_.

* * *

Ielenia sat atop her lizard mount on the top of one of the stalagmite towers that formed a battlement along the wall of the Kenlyl compound.

She searched for any gap in the enemy's lines, and she found it. Once the Baenre cavalry charged there would be a massive hole in the center.

Naturally they were not expecting anything to survive that charge. Ielenia would survive, she ran her fingers through her weeping daughter's silvery hair, _they_ would survive.

She watched as the enemy soldiers began their charge, as the spells that had pummeled the perimeter were suddenly aimed at the castle and the courtyard, the waiting Kenlyl ranks were shattered as balls of flame engulfed entire cadres.

Ielenia closed her eyes for an instant in prayer to Lolth.

Spare them.

She had Lolth's favor, she had asked so little of the Spider Queen through out her life, and she had tried her very best to do everything she could in Lolth's name.

All she wanted from Lolth now was survival.

And as she thought this the Baenre cavalry charged.

She held her lance in one hand, and the reigns in the other as she whipped her mount into motion.

"Praise Lolth." She whispered.

Takira whimpered, but did not repeat the words. Ielenia supposed it didn't matter really.

Her guard followed her as they moved down the extremely steep wall of the stalagmite, Ielenia felt Takira's grip on her tighten and the rope held her daughter to her as the lizard began to pick up its pace as it charged downwards.

Her guards sped ahead and formed a wedge in front of her, she would like to preserve as many of them as she could, she did not want to find herself free of the slaughter, but all alone.

She whipped the mount to move faster as the Baenre cavalry swarmed into the courtyard, the hole in the center was as wide as it would ever be, there was no way that the left and right flanks could close before Ielenia and her cavalry got through, this was her chance!

The lizard's speed increased as Ielenia whipped it on, she charged down the stalagmite with her guard, the sound of the charging lizards and the screams of battle were so loud that Ielenia almost didn't hear when Takira sobbed, "I-I will be sad if you die, mother." for the briefest of seconds everything was quiet.

Ielenia wanted to hold the child but she could not.

She swore she would hold her when they were safe.

"I will not die . . . Takira." Ielenia said, calling the girl by her name.

It was not the first time she had done so, though it was rare that she did. For some reason it felt strangely significant now, and Takira held on even tighter.

And then the deafening sound of battle irrupted in her ears as the first of her guards slammed into an orc slave.

Ielenia let her lizard move on its own as she struck out with her lance, the charge was all a blur to her, most of her foes were just goblins and orcs, the drow infantry had not advanced yet.

Some straggling cavalry tried to slow them, Ielenia struck out viciously at one drow, ripping his head from his shoulders as she passed, only to lose her lance to another mounted drow when the weapon buried itself in the chest of his mount.

Ielenia released it right away before it could rip her out of the saddle and to her certain doom, she instead drew her rapier and rode on.

Her guard dropped one by one and in an instant that lasted a century they cleared the enemy line.

Ielenia felt her blood pounding in her ears, she looked over her shoulder to see that there was pursuit, but not from her guard.

A trio of mounted Baenre soldiers.

She closed her eyes, "Lolth preserve us!"

* * *

Vierna stood at the rear, Dantrag was enjoying watching the battle and had apparently seen no reason to climb aboard his mount and charge into the fray.

But when Vierna saw the group of riders emerging from the fight she drew one of her maces, and turned to him, "What is that?"

"A messenger?" Dantrag shrugged.

Vierna glared and saw it coming closer.

It was a priestess riding a rather fast moving lizard.

She felt an urge come over her with all the force of a bolt of lightning, it threw her backwards out of the path of the charging lizard.

Vierna was pleased that Lolth had intervened on her behalf until she realized it was Dantrag to whom she owed her survival.

Though he was a Baenre prince and a weapons master she spared him no thanks, instead she climbed to her feet and dashed over to his lizard.

She threw herself onto its back and urged it into pursuit.

She would kill that one who dared escape, and she would find Lolth's favor.

It all made perfect sense now! That was why Dantrag had not charged with the rest. Lolth had held him back so that Vierna could take the lizard.

It was Lolth's will. Vierna understood.

And she meant to see it carried out.

She whipped the mount onward, "Praise Lolth!" She wailed as the fresh mount gained on the retreating group.

* * *

Ielenia whipped her mount onward, she did not usually abuse it so viciously but she could not afford to let it slow.

She sheathed her rapier and instead drew one of the hand crossbows she stowed near the front of the saddle.

She twisted back and took aim at one of her pursuers and fired.

The bolt sailed off the mark of the Baenre soldier's neck, and instead struck the lizard squarely in the eye. The reptile hissed in pain and tumbled forward, breaking its neck and crushing its rider.

Ielenia laughed, such a lucky shot surely meant that Lolth was with them tonight!

She tossed the crossbow away, it would do her no good now, and reached for the second.

"Look out, in front!" Takira screamed.

What was she talking about? She was not even _looking _in front, she had her face buried in Ielenia's robes as she held onto her for dear life.

To her surprise however she saw a group of lizards approaching her from the front! Ielenia scowled and fired the bolt forward instead, again striking the lizard instead of the rider.

This time the lizard threw itself to the left side, slamming into one of its companions, both lizards became a tangled mess and Ielenia might have been pleased with herself as they passed had the injured lizard's tail not whipped out and taken the feet out from her own mount.

Ielenia felt herself somehow come free from the saddle, she screamed as she and Takira rolled away from the lizard.

She came to her feet and found the rope between them cut, in Takira's hand was one of Ielenia's daggers.

The girl scrambled to her feet and threw her small tattered _piwafwi_ about her quickly as if she were freezing to death, and reached into it with one hand, the other she held out towards the lizards and screamed something Ielenia did not understand.

The lizards stopped, stumbled forward and many of them crushed their riders.

Takira gripped Mivindep's crystal in her hands and grinned up at her mother, "I _told _you I could fight. I am not defenseless!"

Ielenia just grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her away. "We must flee!"

"N-no! I have dropped the crystal! Mother I-"

"It does not matter!" Ielenia screamed, pulling Takira along.

The girl _was_ running with her, but her legs were not quite the proper length.

And Ielenia could not possibly carry her and hope to escape.

But she could not leave her either.

And they were being pursued still, some of the Baenre soldiers had come to their feet and were charging after them, swords drawn.

Some of them had recovered their mounts.

Whatever Takira had done before Ielenia supposed the girl could not do it again without the crystal.

Ielenia closed her eyes and pleaded with Lolth, she could not hope to turn and fight all of those soldiers by herself.

And no one came to her rescue.

She and Takira only ran.


	18. The Sacrafice

**Chapter IX  
****Part II**

Vierna felt murderous glee filling her when she spotted the group of Baenre cavalry charging towards the Kenlyl survivor from the front.

Her eagerness grew when the princess was thrown from the saddle and hit the ground rolling.

Vierna could barely contain her scream of "Praise Lolth!"

It was her time, for she recognized the Kenlyl princess now as that whore from the Baenre dungeons!

And that brat, oh she would kill the child too.

She charged, reaching the front of the riders when that child, hood drawn over her face held out a hand and shouted something.

They were little more than a hundred paces away when the wave hit her, Vierna felt an odd urge to vomit rise up in her, and her eyes nearly rolled back into her head, but she resisted.

Her lizard did not.

The beast went down, Vierna ripped her harness from her waist, and rolled out of the saddle.

She drew her twin light maces and ran as fast as she could, not even bothering to look back.

She would end this! She would kill them!

She could _feel _it, this was her path back to Lolth's good graces!

* * *

Ielenia ran with Takira, she heard the gaining footsteps behind her and pleaded silently with Lolth.

This could not happen, she had the Spider Queen's favor. She was asking so little . . .

She just wanted to live . . .

She just wanted her child to survive . . .

Lolth could not deny her this, not after she'd made every sacrifice asked of her, done every_thing_ asked of her, spent hours in prayer begging to know what else might be asked of her!

How could it end like this?

Ielenia screamed when something hard and heavy slammed into her left shoulder.

She fell forward and dragged her daughter down with her.

Struggling to rise to her feet she saw the mace responsible for her now useless left arm, she ripped her rapier from its scabbard and turned to face Vierna Do'Urden.

"Run Takira. If the Spider queen favors me at all she will preserve you, I beg you run!"

Ielenia wasn't really sure what she was saying. Was her child's life more important than her own?

She looked at the girl, into those beautiful violet eyes and the answer was obvious.

Takira's survival did mean more to her than her own, and the realization frightened her.

It was weakness, no wonder Lolth had abandoned her.

Well . . . never mind Lolth now. It was too late to regain the Spider Queen's favor-favor that Ielenia was once certain she had not even lost.

"I cannot leave you, mother! You are . . . you are . . ." The girl's eyes filled with panic and tears, "I do not know how to say what I feel! But you are . . . important to me!"

Ielenia smiled and kissed her daughter on the forehead, "Go." She whispered.

"You will die!"

"It is worth it if you can survive."

"What will I do without you?"

Ielenia wasn't sure really. She closed here eyes, "You will find a way to survive . . . survive and take vengeance. Remember to always keep Lolth in your heart and she will not abandon you."

"She _has _abandoned us!" Takira screamed but Ielenia shoved her away.

"Run!" She screamed for Vierna was no more than ten paces away now!

"No!"

"Run!" Ielenia commanded, standing now and shoving Takira away.

She no longer had time to check to be sure that her daughter had left.

Vierna Do'Urden was upon them, and Baenre soldiers followed not far behind.

Ielenia jabbed forward with her rapier, and Vierna dodged.

The High Priestess wielded her remaining mace in one hand and her stolen whip in the other.

She struck out for Ielenia with the whip, and the Kenlyl princess leapt back to avoid it only to find that it had been a feint, Vierna spun around, her mace speeding towards Ielenia's head.

Ielenia felt her legs give out from under her, she fell and narrowly avoided the mace.

She looked to see what had tripped her and saw to her horror that it was Takira.

The child got to her feet, Vierna's second mace in her hands.

Vierna took a swipe at Takira, and the child's avoided the mace by a hairsbreadth. Ielenia rose to her feet and sprang forward, far too late to stop the whip that Vierna had raised into the air, from coming down.

The viper heads became blurs as they struck out at Takira, sinking their fangs into her _piwafwi_, the girl screamed at first more out of surprise than pain. But a scream of pain quickly followed as she fell to her knees.

Ielenia stood over her and thrust her blade towards Vierna's chest, "Die! Just die!" Ielenia screamed.

"No it is you who will die!" Vierna screamed, tearing her whip from the child's body and striking Ielenia with it, "And I will gift your still beating heart to Lolth!"

Ielenia wanted to bring her rapier up and slice the viper's heads off while they were still pouring their venom into her.

She could not rally the strength.

She fell to the ground and Vierna came upon her. The stronger female shoved Ielenia's mithral shirt up to her neck, exposing her chest, her other hand retreated into her _piwafwi_, taking out a cruel looking dagger.

Ielenia's hand shot out towards the dagger and she fought to hold it away from her. How a useful left hand would have aided her then, alas she still had no feeling in her left arm.

But Vierna laughed cruelly and whispered in a soft, soothing almost maternal voice, "Fight back. Fight me. Struggle with me. It makes it all the sweeter for me to know that as you die you know that you truly are powerless against me. Die now Kenlyl, die knowing that Lolth favored me, the houseless, the slave, over you, the princess."

"No!" Ielenia screamed, "No!" Lolth favored her, she would not let this happen! Lolth, the spider queen, her goddess would not let her die like this!

"Scream!" Vierna laughed cruelly, "You are making this, my return to Lolth's favor all the sweeter! Scream for me, princess . . . scream your _heart _out." Vierna said.

Ielenia felt tears coming to her eyes, this was the end, the dagger came closer and closer to her chest, she couldn't stop it, she felt its sharp tip pressing against her chest.

She felt her skin break, she felt blood flow over her breasts, she screamed as the dagger cut into her slowly.

* * *

Takira writhed in pain on the ground, but her own pain was forgotten when she heard her mother screaming.

She whipped her head around and saw the Baenre priestess burying a dagger in her mother's chest, whispering in a grossly soothing voice the whole wile, "Rest now as I give you to Lolth . . . let an eternity of torment at the hands of a thousand demons silence your screams, give in to death."

Takira screamed in denial. She may have tried to say something along the lines of "no" or "stop" but it came out as an unintelligible screech.

She wanted to close her eyes and look away, but she couldn't. She kept her gaze on her mother, her mother whose heart was not being cut free of her chest by the sickeningly soothing Baenre priestess.

Takira screamed again when the Baenre soldier grabbed her from behind, she began to struggle, she would kill them!

She would kill them all!

She kicked backwards viciously and was pleased to find that it had been a male holding her.

She was dropped and she crawled on all fours to her mother and her murderer.

Takira had every intention of attacking the murderer but her mother's eyes stopped her.

There was no life in them. She had not even closed her eyes in death, and she _was_ dead, there was no denying it.

Takira felt tears streaming down her cheeks as she held her mother's face in her hands. She rested her forehead against her mother's and wept.

"Fear not child," The priestess said, "You will not be apart for long, your turn comes."

Takira did not know what to say, or do. She slowly raised her head away from her mother's and gently closed her mother's red eyes forever.

She closed her own eyes and wept as the Baenre priestess tore her mother's heart free and screamed in ecstasy, Takira knelt by her mother, helpless and crying as the female that she did not know was her aunt climbed off the body and held the heart aloft as tribute to Lolth to the appreciative cheers of the Baenre soldiers that had caught up to them.

Takira felt her own heart pounding faster and faster in her chest.

Her eyes opened. Her entire body was shaking and the tears would not stop.

She glared at the priestess who had not only killed her mother, but had even desecrated the body.

She watched as her mother's heart was offered to Lolth.

"_Ssins d'Aerth_!" Takira screamed at the Baenre priestess.

They only laughed at her.

"She sounds eager for her turn, Vierna." One of the soldiers said with a laugh.

"Ah yes . . . but she is not yet ready for death. She has not suffered enough in life." Vierna said.

Takira heard but did not register the words. What more could they do to her?

She stared at her mother, dead and defiled.

She clenched her fists, how much of her shaking was due to the bite of the whip, and how much was truly due to the loss of her mother she did not know.

But the child stood up and did her best to stop the trembling.

"Ravage her, let her know that there are torments other than death." Vierna commanded.

The solders laughed and began to advance.

Takira opened her eyes, the flashed as she held her hands out.

"P-Purple eyes?" Vierna gasped in astonishment.

And then Takira struck, she screamed with all of her hatred, and an explosive cone of power struck out for the drow.

The air rippled but they raised no defense.

Not that any of them truly could have protected their minds from her, or from her mind blast.

The soldiers all fell, stunned, the priestess was clearly shocked, but not because of the mind blast.

Takira glared at her with hatred, "I . . . I hate you." She said as she took her mother's rapier, "Obviously I will now kill you."

"P-Purple eyes . . ." Vierna said, dumbfounded.

"Yes. They will be the last thing you ever see." Takira said coldly as she raised the rapier, ready to bring it down on Vierna's head.

She felt an overwhelming anguish inside her . . . this should have been harder, if only she had used the mind blast before her mother was . . .

She had been trying not to use it, Minvindep had told her it was an ineffective form of combat, that it was overtaxing and that she should use the crystal to perform it.

She had listened, and not what had that earned her?

Her mother was dead because of her hesitation! It was _her_ fault!

Vierna however, if that truly was her name, would share in the responsibility.

Takira thought, in the back of her mind, that the name Vierna was familiar.

"Your eyes . . ." Vierna whispered, "They are like Drizzt's!"

Takira's jaw dropped. "V-Vierna Do'Urdern?" She whispered.

The priestess nodded.

Takira's hatred grew, "Sister of my father, murderer of my mother, Vierna Do'Urden I will never forgive you!" She screamed and she lunged forward.

And found her rapier blocked by a sword.

Her father's sword.

"Put it down, Takira." Dinin said softly.

Takira's eyes widened and she dropped the rapier.

She looked upon her father, the assassin, and a small group of drow fighters, all male, and no discernable uniform among them.

The assassin grabbed Vierna by the scalp and threw her back onto the ground. "Ravage her indeed, spider kisser." He said darkly, and he viciously kicked Vierna in the stomach.

"Enialis!" Dinin roared.

"Just once." Enialis said, raising his hands and stepping away from the gasping Vierna.

"Dinin! Dinin she has purple eyes!" Vierna gasped. "Kill her for me! Kill her Dinin, kill her now! She is unholy, a wraith come back to torment me! Kill her!"

Dinin glared at his sister, "On second thought, shut her up." He commanded.

Enialis eagerly grabbed Vierna by the scalp again, and this time introduced her face to the pommel of his short sword.

There was a cracking sound and Vierna fell silent.

Takira felt cheated as the priestess's body fell to the ground and blood began to pour from her nose.

"She had better still be alive." Dinin said coldly.

Now Takira felt outraged. "What?" She screamed, she jerked on her father's arm, "She has _killed_ mother! Look! Look at her! She is _dead_! She will never speak to us again, never . . . never-" Takira was lost for words as the full gravity of the situation struck her.

She tried her very best to make it easier, to remember all the times her mother had struck her, all the times she had called her unkind names.

Instead she remembered those rare moments when they were alone together and her mother had been kind to her, or had held her, or had comforted her when she was frightened.

Never again.

She began to cry again as her father knelt behind her and wrapped his strong arms around her.

She felt safe and protected, but that was not what she wanted. She wanted to feel sad, she wanted to feel hatred, she shoved him away, "Do not touch me!" She screamed, "Why did you not come here sooner? Why did you not save her? Instead you are protecting her murderer! I _hate _you!"

Her father, Dinin Do'Urden's face was unreadable, and Takira's own mind was far too cluttered with confusing emotions for her to attempt to read his.

But he smiled weakly and wrapped his arms around her again, "I do not hate you." He whispered, and then he released her and stood up. "Kill every last Baenre soldier, kill their mounts and do it quickly before more arrive."

"What of your delightful sister?" Enialis asked dryly.

"I will take her to Jarlaxle. Perhaps he can find use for yet another Do'Urden." Dinin said softly.

"And the girl?" One of the fighters asked.

"Leave her. She is not strong enough for a life with Bregan D'aerthe, and she is not noble, she cannot accuse Baenre."

Takira's mind was swimming, her father was going to leave her to die, but take her mother's murderer to the safety of this Bregan D'aerthe place?

She could not believe it! She had thought him better than that, had _sensed_ that he was better than that.

The drow went to work slaughtering the stunned Baenre soldiers, Enialis came over to Dinin and began to speak to him, but Takira just crawled back to her mother and wept.

"I hate you, father." She whispered again, and again.

* * *

Dinin took a deep breath.

"Do not blame me," Jarlaxle had said, "If they are dead upon your arrival."

Well Ielenia was dead.

And Vierna was her killer.

Dinin had known himself a fool for even asking Jarlaxle to allow him to try to rescue Ielenia and Takira, to bring them to Bregan D'aerthe for protection.

The conditions would have been that both would have to assume new identities, and that was only natural. They would be expected to join Bregan D'aerthe or die anyway, but if they agreed they would survive, and they would have been with Dinin.

He was not sure why he wanted them, the best excuse he could manage to Jarlaxle had been "It would be such a waste" at which the mercenary had just chuckled knowingly. He had not told the mercenary leader that Takira might be a weapon, did not think Jarlaxle would believe it.

Now that he had seen the girl somehow drop a patrol of Baenre's cavaliers, he still was not truly certain _he_ believed it.

"Why are we leaving her?" Enialis demanded, "You fought tooth and nail to convince Jarlaxle to cancel her mother's assassination and let you keep them as pets or however you would have kept them, now you leave her to die on the streets?"

"Why do you care?" Dinin demanded.

The assassin scoffed, "Do not be a fool, you cost me a great deal of gold by convincing Jarlaxle to call off the assassination, now it was all for nothing?"

Dinin closed his eyes. "I am not leaving her to die, I am leaving her to live."

"What?"

"You would not understand!" Dinin said angrily, "It would have been one thing if her mother were to come along . . . but I cannot raise a child! I do not want to try, I have more important matters to attend!"

He scowled and kicked one of the corpses.

That was all true . . . but not the whole truth. He looked back at his daughter. "I am leaving her here to live, Enialis. She is female, and she will be beautiful when she is grown so she has two very important advantages, the fact that she is a living weapon makes her chances of survival far better than those of any other child her age. Perhaps she can rise up, become a priestess. She has noble blood in her, she is one of the last of the Do'Urden line, and I believe she has what it takes to _be_ noble. I will not have her live the life of a mercenary, you who value your freedom and independence must understand." Dinin laughed, "It may sound bizarre, but . . . I want what is best, and the life I live is not even remotely good for her. She can be more."

Enialis closed his eyes and then whispered, "If you will . . . I believe there is a way . . . we do not need to leave her to her own devices, though it would help her to grow strong . . . it could be centuries before she could struggle for a noble title. I believe I know of a way for her to wake up this morning a princess."

Dinin raised an eyebrow, "What?"

Enialis held his house amulet, the one with the insignia scratched to obscurity, "My mother would protect her from Matron Baenre herself if she knew the kind of power the girl possesses, and she would be noble!"

"What rank?" Dinin asked.

"High enough to be ambitious, low enough that she will still be appreciated."

"You guarantee she will be treated well?" Dinin asked.

"Yes. And most importantly she will be safe." Enialis said. "Do you agree to this?"

Dinin nodded. "Yes . . . but . . . allow me a moment to speak to her alone."

Enialis nodded, "Of course."

Dinin took another deep breath.

He approached the girl and knelt down next to her and looked at Ielenia's corpse.

_Sorry._ He thought, _I _did _enjoy our time together though,_ He reached out and gently placed his hand on Takira's shoulder.

"Do not touch me!" The girl whispered, "I hate you."

"I know, but listen to me now. I must tell you some things, and then you will never see me again."

"I wish I had never seen you to begin with! I wish I had never met you, this is all because of you!"

Dinin ignored her, "Takira you must devote yourself wholly to Lolth, do you understand?"

"No." The girl hissed, "I hate Lolth! Mother died expecting Lolth to protect her, but there was no protection! Lolth is a fake, a false deity, a lie! I _hate_ Lolth! And I hate you! If there is a goddess of vengeance then I shall worship her! But never Lolth!" She screamed.

Dinin smiled. "Devote yourself to Lolth, you are stronger than your mother because you know that Lolth will not protect you, not outright. She is more subtle than that. But devote or deny, be sure that you do not commit sacrilege openly, or you will be killed."

"I want to die!"

"Silence!" Dinin snapped, "Now listen carefully, you are going to leave me, I am sending you away to a place where you will be safe. More than that you will become a princess, and enjoy the rights and privileges that should have been yours from birth."

The girl's violet eyes widened, "N-no! No do not send me away! I wish to remain with you!" She screamed, "Why can I not go with you? I promise not to kill your sister, I promise!"

Dinin smiled, "What a sudden change of heart. But you are not cut out to be a mercenary, you are better than that, you are a Do'Urden, one of the last of a great house, never forget that. That is why I do not kill Vierna, though the day may come when I wish that I had. But you are not dirty, or tainted, you are not unclean, you are of noble blood. Now it is time for you to go, I will remember you when I have time . . . I did enjoy our little talks." Dinin said, patting her shoulder. He took another deep breath and removed the amulet he wore about his neck, "This is so you will not forget who you are," He said, placing the Do'Urden insignia he had kept on his daughter.

He took Ielenia's Kenlyl insignia, doubting she would mind, and placed it on Takira as well. "Keep them well hidden from everyone else. Though you must never forget who you really are, others must never know."

He then smiled, "This is to keep you safe," he added, and removed the cloth bracers from his arms and placed them on hers. "It is all your father can give before he bids you farewell forever."

"No! If you leave me I will hate you forever!" The girl warned, wiping tears from her violet eyes with the bracers Dinin had just given her.

"You keep saying that," Dinin said with a weak grin, "Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?"

"I hate you so much." The girl wept.

"I know. Now go." Dinin said calmly. He nodded to Enialis who nodded back and took the child away.

Dinin stood alone by the body of Ielenia for a moment longer wondering what might have been if he had been able to take her up on her offer.

If Kenlyl had not been destroyed.

He shook his head. He was Dinin Do'Urden, not Dinin Kenlyl, he would never be anyone other than Dinin Do'Urden.

He was a mercenary of noble blood, he was Dinin Do'Urden, right hand of Jarlaxle, Dinin Do'Urden, the noble mercenary.


	19. The Princess

**Chapter X  
****After the Fall**

Enialis shifted uneasily under the glare of his mother. He had never wanted to see that face again. Had not even wanted to see the walls of his birthplace and childhood home again. His mother's face however represented all that was not good in his life, he despised her, he despised her face.

"We thought you dead!" His older brother Borrakul waved enthusiastically, "Come back then? Quick, fetch Sivar and our youngest brother. We have to sacrifice the third living son and our prodigal brother has returned! Oh sound the joyous horn and-"

"Borrakul! Be silent!" Their mother commanded the wizard, who nodded and held a finger over his lips.

Enialis rather wished he had killed Borrakul when he escaped from the compound. He knew Borrakul, like all of the males of their clan had a keen intellect . . . but he certainly did not show it.

Matron Talia G'kar smiled, "What brings you and this lovely little one before me, rogue? I hope you do not wish for me to sponsor one of your bastards."

Enialis bowed to his mother, "We have had our differences, mother," He began.

"You killed our eldest sister and our father! The only reason we did not hunt you down was because we believed you had perished as well!" Borrakul burst out.

Enialis waved the words away, "I _wanted _you to believe I had died. As for Vorja and our dear sister Rekkia, they were in my way. Pity you were not. But I come now not to rejoin G'kar, or to ask forgiveness. I come but to present you with a powerful tool."

Talia leaned forward, sweeping long ivory hair from her scarlet eyes, "Do tell." She said.

* * *

Takira heard the adults speaking about her, she did not hear what they said.

She was having trouble with her ears, she was simply straining too hard to hear her father's voice.

Her mother was dead, there was no returning for her, but her father . . . surely he would realize she did not hate him, change his mind and invite her to stay with him.

Surely he did not think that she hated him.

He would not leave her like this, would not reject her like this.

She tried to summon him, as she had so many times before, implant in his mind a subliminal desire to come to where she was, as she had done before their first meeting, and again in the Baenre compound.

But if he sensed her, he was not responding.

She could not be left to complete strangers, it simply would not do, she . . . she could not accept it.

The Matron Mother-who did not look quite so old as her grand mother, though drow signs of aging were subtle at best, spoke to her. "Tell me . . . what is your name little one?"

"I am Takira Kenlyl . . . or Takira Do'Urden. I have not decided which I prefer." She said. She leaned towards Kenlyl, her birth name, but if Do'Urden was a name that inspired fear and commanded respect she might wield it. If only to strike fear into her enemies when she took her vengeance.

Would she take revenge for Do'Urden as well as Kenlyl? Sure, why not?

"Wrong, dear one. You are Tak'Hera G'kar, my daughter."

"I believe you are mistaken." Takira whispered.

"Not at all. I may not have carried you in my womb, but you are now my child. Tak'Hera G'kar. So do tell me sweet one, what is your name?"

"Tak'Hera G'kar." Takira said softly, hardly caring anymore.

"I see you understand your situation." The matron said in a kind voice, though as Takira looked into her eyes she saw no kindness at all.

Only greed.

Eager, obvious greed.

But what did it matter? What was in a name? She would reclaim her true names one day . . . when she took this house. It would be her stepping stone on the path to vengeance.

In her heart she was Kenlyl.

In her heart she was Do'Urden.

And though she had never wanted to be a princess she would become a Matron Mother if need be and avenge both her parent's households. She would forge a stronger house and if she could find him . . . she would give her father a place by her side.

Perhaps he would not reject her once she had grown powerful . . .

"Do not forget your name, or we will have to viciously torture you until you remember it." The wizard standing next to the matron's throne commented with a smile, and Takira sensed-though his mind was rather well shielded-that though he was trying to be humorous, he was not lying.

The Matron however leapt from her chair, her whip came into play on her son's back as she screamed "You will not threaten my daughter! How dare you speak in such a manner to a _princess_?"

The wizard fell to his knees and apologized quickly, though it seemed his robes somehow turned away the snakes' fangs.

Takira's hand unconsciously moved to one of the wounds on her back . . . she wished she had had such robes. Perhaps, had she not been in such pain at the time she might have been of more use to her mother.

"This fool," The Matron said coolly, turning to Takira and suddenly brightening, "is our house Wizard, your elder brother Borrakul G'kar. He believes himself to be amusing, though he most certainly is not."

"Yes Matron." Takira said softly.

"Well then , Borrakul take your younger sister to her quarters. Qillathe's older rooms should do nicely, give her anything she asks for, see that she is comfortable. On the morrow, after she has slept, G'kar will be introduced to its new princess."

"Yes, my Matron." The wizard said with a bow.

Borrakul was tall and slender, almost as tall as a female, and almost as slender as a skeleton. He wore robes that seemed to threaten to trip him as he walked.

As they came to the throne room's exit, Enialis the assassin said to her "You will be safe here. They will protect you with their lives so long as you are useful to them."

"I understand sir. And I shall be useful." Takira said softly.

* * *

Borrakul showed her about the five rather large rooms that would be hers.

It was more space than she needed, but . . . well if they were going to insist on spoiling her why not take advantage of it?

"Now, is there anything that you need?" Borrakul asked.

Takira shook her head slowly, "You cannot bring me what I want."

"Very true. I do not plan to either, because it is not my duty to do so. But let me teach you a trick," The wizard grinned and waved his hands about in a way that seemed arcane-Takira would not know, she knew little of arcane arts-and then kicked the door open behind him.

He leaned out of the room and called down the hallway.

A boy about Takira's age rushed over, his eyes cast downward. "This is your brother Rilian. He is currently serving as a page prince."

"A page prince?" Takira asked.

"A term of servitude to the superior family members. I am sure it has a meaning known best to Lolth and her priestesses, I am just a humble wizard, I do not know or care. What I do know is that anything you require, you may ask your brother until his term as page is finished."

"How long until he ceases to be a page prince?" Takira asked.

"I daresay a year or less . . . then I believe we will kill him and get a new one." Borrakul said, and the boy flinched, which caused the wizard to smile broadly. "best enjoy his service now, do you not agree? Go boy, fetch your sister something to drink from the kitchens!"

The young drow dashed away, and the wizard laughed softly. "Your quarters are the closest to the kitchens, this should not take long."

"Will you really kill him?" Takira asked, finding it rather annoying being around a being whose surface thoughts she could not sense, regardless of how hard she tried.

The wizard laughed, "Certainly not. Why I was a page prince once. It ends when one turns sixteen . . . or was it sixty? Oh well, no matter."

Takira put her hands on her hips, "Am I to be a page princess then?" She inquired.

"Certainly not. You are female." Borrakul said. He picked up a jar sitting on one of Takira's shelves and tapped it twice, he smiled and asked "May I keep this?" he shoved it into his robes, "Thank you." He said without waiting for Takira's reply.

He then bowed low, "Remember, anything you require simply ask it of Rilian. If you are confronted by anyone simply inform them that you are Tak'Hera G'kar, fourth daughter born to Matorn Talia G'kar."

"I will." Takira said softly.

"And do try to be more . . . ah . . . energetic. A child your age should be far more annoying."

"I shall endeavor to annoy you then, brother." Takira said softly.

"Yes, that would be lovely." Borrakul said, clapping his hands together.

Rilian returned with a golden goblet, carrying it very carefully.

Borrakul intercepted him before he could offer the cup to Takira. The wizard tapped hard on the bottom of the cup, spilling its contents on the page prince, "Now that you have ruined your sister's drink, fetch a new one." He said dismissively to the youth.

The page prince rushed off and Takira smirked at the small act of cruelty. "There was no reason for you to do that." She said.

"There was no reason for me to not." Borrakul retorted with an infectious grin, "Now good evening sister Tap'Koopa, or whatever your name is."

"Tak'Hera." Takira corrected.

"Drat . . . I was so looking forward to torturing you." Borrakul said as he left her alone in one of her oversized rooms.

It did not take her long to realize that she was lonely.

She was not afraid, Mivindep had taught her not to be afraid of anything, including death.

And-though it was difficult-she was heeding his training even now, doing her very best to remain hidden from any prying psionic eyes.

Her master's final lesson to her had been to teach her how to hide her presence, and a new form of combat meant to help protect her from the mind blast so that she would have less to fear should she ever encounter another Illithid.

But was Mivindep himself not an Illithid? Takira was not sure what to believe of that night in the dungeons of the first house.

She was shaken from her thoughts when Rilian returned again with a drink for her.

She considered making him spill it all over himself again, but found herself lacking the energy for even minimal cruelty. Instead she sighed and accepted the drink.

She had not believed she would want anything, but she found that she truly _was_ quite thirsty.

She looked at Rilian and tried to get a good look at his face. It was difficult because he would not raise his gaze.

"Look up at me." Takira suddenly commanded him.

"I can see you from here." He said.

"I cannot properly see your face." Takira explained, "I wish to see your face. Now." She added with authority.

"No." He said simply.

"I am Tak'Hera G'kar, your sister, I _command _you to look at me."

"I cannot. My gaze must never leave the floor, I am not worthy to look upon anything else." Rilian said.

"What will happen if you look up from the floor?" Takira asked.

"They will kill me, I suppose." Rilian said with a shrug. "Or else they will beat me. I receive many death threats but so far none have been carried out. Beatings on the other hand _are_ carried out."

Takira frowned. "Well I do not want to cause you to be beaten . . . but you may look at anything on the floor?"

"Except spiders. I am unworthy of looking upon Lolth's children." The boy said in a tone that suggested he was rolling his eyes.

"You must have seen a spider before, how do you know what not to look at?" Takira asked.

"Well the little things with eight legs, the ones that I get beaten for looking at? I believe those are spiders." The boy said sarcastically.

Takira smiled, she rushed over to her door and closed it, then she returned to Rilian.

She laid down on the ground and stared up into her false brother's handsome face, "Can you look at me now?" She asked.

"I suppose I can." He told her. "You are more interesting than the floor I suppose."

He looked a great deal like the assassin Enialis, Takira decided, only much younger. The assassin was his father, or perhaps more likely his brother. It would explain why he had brought her to this household.

So she was meant to once again be the weapon of a noble house. At least she knew her role.

"You are not my sister." Rilian said bluntly.

"Why do you say that?" Tak'Hera asked.

"You do not look like them, or mother. You are beautiful." Rilian said simply.

Tak'Hera found herself smiling. No one had called her beautiful before. Mivindep often said that her potential and her power was a thing of beauty, but his words had never been directed at her appearance. She could not recall a single event in her life when she had been called beautiful before . . . but she liked it.

"What is your name?" Rilian asked her suddenly.

She blinked, "Why do you wish to know?"

"I wish to know what I am supposed to call you?"

Takira frowned.

A name

Oh she had many names.

And now they were real ones. Takira Do'Urden, Takira Kenlyl, even Tak'Hera G'kar, a far cry from "tainted one" or "child of unclean blood" to be sure. No one would ever call her "tainted" or "unclean" ever again.

But just now the only name she wished to be called by as _Sarol._

She closed her eyes and forced an energetic smile, "I am Tak'Hera G'kar."

"Tak." Rilian nodded.

"No Tak'Hera." She corrected.

"Tak sounds better, and it is easier." Rilian said.

Takira smiled faintly. Tak was about the only part of Tak'Hera that was really hers. She could pretend that it was really short for Tak_ira_ . . . so she smiled and said "I like that. I grant you permission to refer to me by that name."

"I was not seeking your permission." Rilian said. Takira smiled at him, and then he did something rather unexpected.

He grinned.

It was a cocky grin, the sort her father would have wore.

It made her miss Dinin Do'Urden, her father. She wished she had not told him the things she had.

She hoped she would see him again . . . some day.

* * *

Jarlaxle smiled at Vierna, "You have had quite an adventure. We were beginning to believe you would never wake."

Vierna smiled, "I was in communion with Lolth." She told him in a benign, content voice.

Jarlaxle smiled, "I am sure that you were." He said, pitying the Do'Urden priestess. "You fell on the field of battle with Kenlyl. The Baenre abandoned you, left you for dead. Your brother Dinin brought you back here . . . you are under Bregan D'aerthe's protection."

Vierna smiled and shook her head, "No, no. I am afraid you are mistaken. I must return to Baenre."

"Really? And you believe you have a choice in the matter." Jarlaxle said, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Oh yes. You see Lolth has finally spoken to me." Vierna said. She seemed to be looking through Jarlaxle, rather than at him. "I understand now what I must do to regain not only her favor, but also to restore Do'Urden. To restore it to glory . . ."

"Really . . . how do you plan to reclaim that glory?"

"Drizzt!" Vierna said with a sinister smile, "I had a vision, a blur of voices and images, Lolth has granted me a vision."

"A vision with purple eyes." Jarlaxle grinned, understanding.

Dinin had mentioned that his daughter had dark purple eyes, and that the girl had been present when he and his patrol had subdued Vierna.

"Yes I saw myself standing, holding a heart in my hands and there _was _a pair of violet eyes . . . a child with purple eyes . . . do you not understand? No of course you do not, you are a male, Lolth does not speak to you as she does me." Vierna said, smiling a pitying smile at Jarlaxle, which he tolerated and even found a little amusing since it was clearly coming from a lunatic. "I saw a dream, a vision of a child with purple eyes, I saw a representation of Drizzt! The heart is his heart, I must offer it to Lolth! It all makes perfect sense! I must sacrifice Drizzt to the Spider Queen! Drizzt is the answer!"

Jarlaxle smiled. He wondered what Vierna would do if she ever met Dinin's daughter.

Wondered what Dinin might be willing to do to keep such a thing from happening. The Do'Urden boy _had _cared enough about the child and her mother to ask Jarlaxle to allow a rescue attempt.

If his trusted lieutenant's ego ever got out of hand again, Jarlaxle would only have to mention allowing Vierna to meet the "representation of Drizzt."

After all, though Dinin might hide the girl's location from himself, nothing could be hidden from Jarlaxle. Not for very long anyway.

He smiled at Vierna, "Well when you hunt for Drizzt you will have Bregan D'aerthe's support."

"I know that. Lolth had told me, I recall from my vision the face of my brother Dinin. He is meant to be a part of Drizzt's capture, I am certain."

"Ah yes. But such an ambitious goal should be taken to Matron Baenre, I am sure she can contribute much . . . as Lolth wills of course." Jarlaxle said.

Vierna's eyes widened, "Yes!" She gasped, "Yes, I must see Matron Baenre and explain my vision to her! I must!"

Jarlaxle laughed. The matron would likely nurture Vierna's budding madness, likely even encourage her to believe that Drizzt's death was the key to her return to the Spider Queen's favor so that Vierna could always be tapped as a resource against Drizzt.

However the fact that Baenre had said in no uncertain terms that they knew Bregan D'aerthe had Vierna, and did not care told Jarlaxle that he could have a little fun with the priestess before returning her to the Baenre matron.

But it could be years, decades before Baenre made any sort of move against the renegade Do'Urden prince, nothing would happen until Matron Baenre was prepared, until she stood to gain from an outing.

Jarlaxle smiled at Vierna again, the wait might very well speed her along her road to madness of course.

And that might be amusing to see.

Ah how he adored these Do'Urden children. They were so entertaining.

Perhaps some day the second Do'Urden to possess unusual eyes would prove an amusing player in the grand game of Menzoberranzan as well.

One could only hope.

* * *

"This is where we part ways." Enialis told Dinin, "I have nothing against you, but I hope we never meet again."

The two were standing outside of one of Jarlaxle's many officers, the assassin having just been paid for his services, and Dinin having been summoned before Jarlaxle for some reason or another.

"That hope is mutual." Dinin nodded.

Enialis however did not leave. Dinin was not sure why, they had not been together long enough to become friends. The assassin however made his reasons known with his next statement, "There is . . . one last thing though. One thing I am curious about. The wizard Mivindep, he said he wanted to speak to you about something. What did he tell you?"

Dinin looked to the guards at the door, and decided it would not hurt to speak in front of them.

They would not know what he was talking about, and though they might tell Jarlaxle it would make no difference.

"The wizard told me to let her go. The girl I mean. He told me to do as I pleased with her mother, but to leave her alone. Not to involve myself with her, not to weaken her until she had come of age."

The assassin tilted his head to the side and smirked, "Is that why you sent her away? And after that dramatic speech about her being worthy of a better life. Tisk Do'Urden."

Dinin found himself grinning, "That was no lie. I do believe her destined for greatness if only because she is a Do'Urden. The wizard's words did not even come to my mind when I made the decision . . . but then I suppose if they had I would have brought her here out of sheer defiance."

"Or perhaps he planted a subliminal urge inside you. You acted on his orders without realizing it was not what you wanted. Perhaps what Dinin Do'Urden really desired _was_ his daughter at his side." Enialis said.

Dinin scoffed. He was not comfortable with the idea of being under any sort of mind control. He would not accept it. "Do not be ridiculous, I got rid of that brat because I do _not_ want her by my side. I have no need for her. The fact that I recognize her potential for greatness does not mean that I care for her. Whatever house you've sent her to could fall tomorrow and I would eagerly fight against it if that was Jarlaxle's order."

"Of course you would." Enialis said with a smirk. "Do you think it is a shame?"

"What?" Dinin asked.

"Ielenia. She was a capable fighter, beautiful. Violet eyed evidence also suggests she was your lover at some time. Do you not think it a shame that she died?"

"Menzoberranzan is a large city. There are many beautiful females, and many of them are capable fighters. Ielenia is, or _was_ replaceable."

"I see. How unlucky for her." Enialis said. "Well . . . farewell Do'Urden. May I never see you again."

"Farewell assassin." Dinin nodded, and then turned to Jarlaxle's office. He took a deep breath.

Life was not so terribly different really.

There were masters, and there were servants. Dinin had always been a servant. Jarlaxle was really a better master in many ways than Matron Malice had been, or than Matron Briza would have been.

Being a lieutenant of Bregan D'aerthe might not have the same recognition attached to it as being the prince of the eighth house of Menzoberranzan, but it was better than nothing.

Survival was the best most drow could hope for, and for now it was all there was for Dinin Do'Urden. Survival.


	20. The Begining

**Epilogue**

**Part II **(I know, it makes no sense!)

Mivindep eased into his large throne carved of the soft and comfortable wood of a surface tree killed some time ago.

It was well cushioned and extravagant. Nothing so intimidating as a throne of blood and bone, but Mivindep liked it. It was rare; he doubted many others would have such a throne.

If it did not inspire fear so be it. _He _could inspire fear personally.

_You have returned._ His servant Gazna acknowledged, bowing low.

He nodded to the half-blood. Gazna was half human, half moon elf. A telepath, like Mivindep himself.

Like Takira.

And yet nothing like Takira.

Gazna rose and mentally communicated several reports that Mivindep did not care about. The Derro had begun to question her in his absence and she'd been forced to break several of them mentally, ending their effectiveness as fighters.

Of course Mivindep could still eat them.

_Did you accomplish your aims master?_ Gazna queried.

Mivindep considered answering. He did not owe Gazna an answer. Though he left her in command of his estate in his absence she was his servant not his second in command.

She had not asked what his aims were, did not ask him where he had gone, she knew it was not her place. She was intelligent. He would not leave her in charge of his estate otherwise.

She was the leader of his small force of Psionic beings, really only a handful strong.

Mivindep was a very unusual Mind Flayer. He not only sought out young Psions, he trained them, nurtured their talents and then used them for his own ends. He made them his servants in his lair deep within the Underdark. Gazna had not been the first, though she had been the most promising until Takira.

Takira, the birth of power, the greatest weapon Mivindep had ever handled.

He was also unusual because he did not enjoy or even tolerate the presence of other Illithids under normal circumstances. Making a deal with El Viddenvelp had been an exception of course.

Mivindep was an oddity to the Illithids in many ways.

He tapped his long fingers on the armrest of his throne. _My trip was most productive. I have found your replacement._ He informed her.

_How wonderful, master._ Gazna thought to him.

A partial lie. He allowed Gazna complete free will, all his servants were technically free, the only thing they could not do was leave his domain.

They could lie to him if they wished.

And he sensed that while Gazna _was_ pleased he had found success, she was not pleased to be replaced.

But she would have plenty of time to learn to accept it; it would be years before Takira was ready for proper use.

_You have found a more powerful Psion._ Gazna congratulated him.

If Mivindep had had a proper mouth he would have smirked. _It was exceptionally troublesome, Gazna. I would not have bothered if she were a mere Psion . . . _

**  
**

* * *

**Some Years Later . . .**

Tak stood in the courtyard of the G'kar complex intently watching Rilian as he was soundly defeated time and again by the weapons master, a lazy little drow with a halberd.

It amused her to no end to watch her "brother" fail. The real amusement did not come from seeing him hurt--though she would be lying if she said it was not just a _little_ amusing--but from the fact that it occurred so rarely that it was a real treat.

Rilian was faster than anything Tak had ever seen. His hands all but disappeared when he fought, and though he had begun with two short swords to devastating effect Matron Talia had since commanded the use of a longsword instead. It was slowing Rilian down and today had been a day of amusing failures.

Her sadistic enjoyment of his pain and suffering aside she _did _like Rilian. He was different than the others.

His presence was far easier to tolerate than any other member of the family, in fact Tak would even go so far as to say she enjoyed spending time with Rilian. Perhaps it was because he was like her. Very reserved and secretive. Of anyone she'd met since coming to this new home, he was the only one she would even consider calling her _Khal'abbil._

She smiled as he fell, the butt of the weapons master's halberd slamming into his stomach. Tak suppressed her laughter, for it looked as if that had hurt.

The defeats were coming further apart now, Rilian was learning. Tak meant to enjoy those that were left . . . perhaps he would break something.

Then she could hurt him while pretending to comfort him.

She was considering using her _talent_ to aid her trusted friend, perhaps stun the weapons master when some thing else caught her attention.

From the corner of her eye she spotted a drow female. She did not know why, but it seemed significant.

The female was a commoner, one that the false princess had not seen before. That should not have been unusual, Tak was rarely allowed anywhere near the commoners. Perhaps Matron Talia feared her false daughter would eat their brains.

Takira had to admit that she had considered doing just that as a joke. It never came to fruition, her pallet was too fussy.

The drow commoner was neither old nor young, neither beautiful nor ugly by drow standards. Perhaps what captured Takira's attention was the female's eyes.

Those eyes were on her and not moving.

Tak bristled; she was uncomfortable under this creature's gaze.

Discomfort however became confusion when the female began to approach her. Confusion became concern when Takira realized she could not sense the being's surface thoughts. There was . . . some kind of barrier. She could not guess the commoner's intentions through usual means.

She tensed and tried to sense the female's motives through boring, regular means. Her face was blank and unreadable, or had Takira just gone too long without relying on more mundane skills?

The female bowed low next to her and began to busy herself picking mushrooms near the stone on which Tak had chosen to sit.

"Hello princess." She said in a silky soft voice. Takira's eyes narrowed. She wanted to ask the strange drow what she was doing but the stranger continued, "I recognize you. From before . . . I am pleased to see you survived princess."

"Excuse me?" Takira demanded.

"You are the daughter of one of the fallen Kenlyl princesses. Second or third, I cannot recall. It has been some years since the fall of that house." The female said, smiling kindly at Takira. "How you must hate the Baenre."

Takira bristled. "I do not know what you are talking about."

"Of course not princess." The female said. "I am pleased none the less to see that the goddess favors you."

"Oh yes," Takira hissed vehemently, "All hail Lolth!" She snapped, outraged at her inability to control this sudden surge of emotion.

Luckily females always shouted that sort of thing, no one noticed.

This creature, this being who knew her true identity . . . scared her.

What might it mean for her current life? For her plans for vengeance?

For she _did _plan to take revenge one day.

She was stunned when the female said, through a pleasant smile, "I do not speak of Lolth." The commoner gathered her mushrooms and began to walk away, Takira stopped her. "Can I help you princess?" She asked.

"What did you say?" Takira demanded.

The female smiled a triumphant smile, and Takira _knew_ it was because she'd been caught.

She didn't care. "What did you say?" She demanded again, shaking the older female.

The female smiled benignly, "I said that the goddess' blessings are upon you. I can tell by looking at you. By looking into your eyes. How else could you have survived?"

Takira scoffed. "That is not all you said. You said you were not speaking of Lolth, _who_ did you speak of?"

The commoner smiled, "Do you know how to keep secrets princess?"

"Exceptionally well." Takira nodded.

"So do I." The female smirked.

Takira felt her temper rising again, this was perhaps the most emotional she'd been since the fall.

But the female led her into a dark corner, safe from the view of most and the hearing of all and whispered softly, "The Dark Goddess is the one who spared you that night I think." The commoner told her, "Just as she spared me."

"Dark Goddess?" Takira scoffed. "Another deity. You speak sacrilege."

The female smirked again, "Yes. I do. And you will say nothing. Because you want to know more. You are enthralled, your mind demands knowledge of the Dark Goddess."

"I am hardly enthralled." Takira said honestly. "But you will tell me what I want to know, or I will tell the Matron to kill you for sacrilege." Takira took her turn to smirk, "In fact . . . I will not even need to supply a reason. All I have to do is ask for your death and it will happen."

The female smiled. "Of course princess. You are right to ask me, you deserve to be told. The goddess would aid you greatly; I sense that she favors you greatly."

"Yes. You have said that. Get to the point." Takira said coldly.

"Child . . . the Dark Goddess is friend to the avenger, advocate of those wronged or abused. She harbors our secrets, she gives us power."

"She sounds like Lolth." Takira scoffed, annoyed.

"She is nothing like Lolth!" The commoner hissed, and Takira smiled.

"But she is. All goddesses are alike. Weak. _I_ am powerful, and I owe it to no Goddess. I owe my survival to no Goddess. Perhaps this Dark Goddess saved you, but not me. No one saved me." Takira folded her arms. "You can go now. I am through with you."

"Ah. But is the goddess through with you, princess? I think not." The commoner bowed low, "I can see it in your eyes, she favors you."

"Does she. Why do you think that?" Takira laughed.

"How many other drow have you met . . . with violet eyes, princess?" The commoner asked slyly.

"How many princesses have you met who grew bored with you and ordered your murder?" Takira sighed. Her way of saying "none so far" for obviously this commonder had not yet annoyed anyone as much as she was annoying Takira. Her continued survival suggested that.

"Purple is a color of the Goddess. Her symbol is surrounded by the color that stains your eyes."

"They are not _stained_." Takira said dangerously slowly.

She would never be called "unclean" by any variation again.

"Of course not princess," The commoner said, shifting uneasily, "but . . . recall the pain you felt the night Kenlyl was betrayed. Baenre wronged you princess, as the last surviving Kenlyl you should be Matron of your own clan, not the last in line for this household." The commoner said.

"I do not care for the title of Matron Mother." Takira said coldly. She frowned, "But . . . vengeance against the one who took my mother from me . . . that is something I would enjoy."

"That is something the goddess would enjoy as well. I _told _you, the Dark Goddess gives power to those who were wronged as we were, the Dark Goddess gives power to the avenger!"

"You offer to teach me. But allow me to teach you." Takira said softly. "You say I need your goddess's power. I tell you again that I _am _power. I will never trust in a god or goddess. I am devoted to the furthering of no power save my own. My eyes are _my_ eyes; they were not stained by some Dark Goddess. I need not and want not the aid of your deity. On my own I will be the avenger of my mother, on my own I will destroy those who have wronged me, and alone will I keep my secrets."

"For now you have her favor whether you wish it or not. But the goddess could protect you, make you stronger!" The commoner insisted.

"Perhaps relying on faceless beings gives you strength. Perhaps believing that rewards await you when this life is over brings you comfort. I will not grudge you your belief . . . but if I ever see you again I will grudge you the ring you are wearing. The one that blocks your thoughts from me." Takira said, turning her back on the priestess. "I will not tell Lolth's children of you, or your Dark Goddess, and I need no ring to keep my mind safe. Go now, spread your foolish beliefs to beings that care."

"Do you think this was a chance meeting? We have been _watching_ you princess, you cannot deny us!"

"I just did." Tak said simply, and proceeding to walk away.

It was a risky, even foolish move to turn one's back on even a possible enemy in Menzoberranzan.

But they had the advantage of being in the G'kar compound, and though no one could hear them several guards could see them. Takira herself was _never_ out of the eyesight of at least one guard, though she hated it.

If this commoner struck at her she would die for it, perhaps even die before the blow could land, for Takira recognized at least one of her observers as a wizard.

She walked away, forcing a spring into her step. She came back to her rock, Rilian was leaning against it breathing heavily.

She noticed he seemed to have injured his right shoulder, so she promptly sat down next to him and leaned her head against that same shoulder, causing him to wince.

But she frowned, and pulled away. "I am sorry." She said. "I should not have done that. I knew it would cause you pain. I apologize."

Rilian shrugged, and then winced again, holding his shoulder. Tak just laughed and slapped him on the back. "The shrug was your own fault." She pointed out.

"And the slap was completely necessary?" Rilian laughed.

"I feel that it was. Yes." The young female nodded.

Perhaps she had little to gain from apologizing to Rilian for a minor act of cruelty that had in truth brought her a small measure of pleasure.

But she knew _no one_ _else_ ever apologized to the second boy of G'kar. He would appreciate her words for a long time to come.

She might not want a goddess.

But for the time being she would need allies. She would need friends.

* * *

**Some Years Later . . .**

Dinin fought, he strained his legs, mentally he _begged_ them to stop following Vierna.

He did not know what she would do to him, but he could scarcely believe he was simply going along with it!

No, his body was. He was fighting desperately, and losing.

"Follow me dear brother." Vierna said in a singsong voice and not for the first time.

She led him on and he fought, how long had this lasted? It seemed like they had not traveled far and yet he felt as if he had fought her for years.

Vierna, the gentlest and most tolerable of his siblings . . . what would she do to him?

"You fear Drizzt." She stated rather than asked, and Dinin did not argue. "I shall help you dear brother, help you conquer your fear so that you may help me conquer Drizzt."

"Vierna-" he tried, meaning to reason with the insane creature that his sister had become.

"You and I are the last of the Do'Urdern, it was our duty to restore our household. Alas brother you seem fearful of the task. That cannot be. Your lack of faith in our goddess angers me, though I do not show it."

"Oh you are doing an excellent job of showing it!" Dinin snapped, "Release me, Vierna!"

"This will be painful." Vierna said calmly, "More so than normal I suspect . . . I want you to feel this, know what true pain is my brother. Pain is your _ally_ for pain reminds you that there is life yet in you. When you face Drizzt, you may feel pain . . . but ever let it drive you to attack, not to flee."

"Strategic retreat is far more sound than constant attack!" Dinin protested, "Any master of the academy would know that, and you were once a mistress of Arach-Tinilith! Do not do this!"

He did not know what crazed Vierna planned to do . . . but if it was going to hurt he wanted no part of it.

Though he could speak he found the rest of his body restrained by some magic. Found himself kneeling some ten feet from Vierna. "I will fight Drizzt!" He offered desperately as Vierna knelt and began to pray to Lolth.

Yet she finished her prayer before standing and answering, "Yes my brother. You will. But you will not do so as Dinin Do'Urden. Dinin Do'Urden is a weak coward, and soon he will be no more."

Dinin felt rage fill him, "You cannot kill me, Vierna!" He roared, struggling against whatever held him, determined to break free, to slay Vierna. "I spared your life! I _saved_ you!"

"Lolth saved me. And she guides me now. Praise to Lolth!" Vierna screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Damn Lolth!" Dinin shouted, and felt a sharp pain in his stomach. "Damn you Vierna!"

"Words brother. Ignorant words, you know not the gift that Lolth gives you. You will no longer be Dinin Do'Urden, weak and small. It is time to become my servant and my champion. Drizzt will be no match for you, oh failure to Lolth. Your sacrilege, your weakness has angered the Spider Queen but she permits me to change you, rather than kill you. You should be grateful my darling brother. Praise her with your final breath."

Dinin's eyes were wild with rage. Change him?

Change him into what?

"Damn you Vierna . . ." He whispered.

"I had wished for your continued service as Dinin Do'Urden, but Dinin the Drider shall serve equally well as my champion. Had you trusted in Lolth a heretic like Drizzt could never have hurt you. But you turned your back on your goddess, you doubted."

"Yes, we have established that. Get on with it!" Dinin scowled, feeling more pain rippling through him.

"It has already begun, Dinin. With your new strength you will help me kill Drizzt. When I offer his still beating heart to Lolth I will be the last true Do'Urden. I will restore our house to its former glory, no I will make it more glorious than ever. It will be more powerful than ever, Lolth has promised this to me."

"You are wrong Vierna." Dinin smirked through the pain. "You are so wrong. You will not be the last Do'Urden."

"Of course not my brother, for somewhere inside the husk of the monster you shall become you will always be Dinin Do'Urden. My beloved, if somewhat cowardly brother." Vierna said dismissively.

Dinin tried to laugh through the pain, tried not to give Vierna the satisfaction of knowing how badly this hurt. "Vierna you fool. If Drizzt does not kill you--" He threw his head back and suppressed a scream, but not for long.

As his legs split apart, becoming four, as still more legs erupted from his body, long spider like legs, Dinin Do'Urden screamed.

But in his mind he laughed.

_Vierna you fool._ He thought. _Drizzt will kill you. And if he does not, then there is still one more Do'Urden to take vengeance upon you. I pray to whatever god may hear me that Drizzt strike you down. But if he cannot then my daughter will. For she will be the last Do'Urden, and you, who have taken both her parents from her, will always be her enemy Vierna. Perhaps death at Drizzt's hands will be preferable, he at least would show you compassion._

Through the pain Dinin heard an odd sound.

Laughter.

It was not Vierna's.

It was his own.

He was laughing not only in his mind, but out loud as well. He gave in to it, laughed harder, laughed at Vierna.

He laughed as his body came closer to finishing its transformation, as his mouth ceased to be his mouth, as his face ceased to be his face, as he ceased to be Dinin Do'Urden, but his eyes laughed still.

"May you suffer in the abyss, Vierna!" Were his last words with a drow mouth.

He closed his eyes, in his last moments of sanity-for he could not even guess how much of himself would remain once he became a drider-he said a prayer.

Not to Lolth, but to whatever god or goddess would listen.

He was beyond help now. But she was not.

Protect his daughter. Save Takira, help her to grow strong. Help her to escape Menzoberranzan and find strength somewhere else.

Perhaps not on the surface like that fool Drizzt, but somewhere where she could find _true_ strength. The kind of strength that she would need to truly restore Do'Urden, to make it what it should be.

_Guide her, I beg you, whoever will hear me._ Dinin thought.

He was finished. He was slipping away, his body was no longer Dinin Do'Urden, it was Dinin the Drider.

He hoped to the gods that Drizzt killed him.

**The End . . .**

* * *

**Final Note:** This final chapter was meant mostly to illustrate the kind of young adult Takira becomes and to explain a bit on Mivindep since he is just such a favorite villain of mine. The final scene was one that was planned from the very start. It underwent some changes but the basic idea of it has remained unchanged. I have issues with it, it doesn't feel quite right and I might just change it a bit at some time in the future. But for now it is what it is. 

Thanks for reading my first major Forgotten Realms work on this site. The helpful suggestions I received for this story helped make it better than I originally estimated it would be, and will help me greatly as I work with its sequels. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers, and to anyone who's been with me from the start.

What does Tak do when she cannot get revenge on Vierna? What becomes of Enialis? The sequel of this story, titled Chronciles: Otherworld, is up now. Hope you enjoy it!


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